Say Something, Ron
by Rye-bread
Summary: based on a pic by CarbonF at DeviantArt will Fate intervene in KPStD?  Can Kim overcome the Food Chain? Can Ron overcome himself? Can they head Erik off? Just a short piece that is getting longer.
1. Chapter 1: Tonguetied

Takes place during Kim Possible: So the Drama

This is a short thing based on Say Something and Say Something scrap by CarbonF .

Even though the story has a happy ending, he has taken a pivotal moment when the happy ending might have come earlier; Ron doesn't necessarily have tomorrow, because Erik is coming. Actually, none of us have tomorrow, either.

Tell your someone special today that they are that someone special

Kim hopped off the scooter and turned briefly before opening the door to go in. "Well—thanks for the ride home."

Ron gazed into the luminous green eyes and tried to work past the catch in his throat. His mind was turning like a washer on rapid spin cycle: just tell her, it said. It was a moment of both of them staring up and down; Kim turned again with her hand on the doorknob and Ron let a sound out: "Ah--."

Kim turned again, expectantly, standing on tiptoes, head cocked.

Ron tried to speak the words: K.P., you're the light of my life. I care for you more than Rufus, more than Bueno Nacho; you're the sun and moon to me. He tried to just move his lips: Kim, I like you as more than friends, and I was thinking if you would--; but he just stood there—with his mouth ajar, just like the door was ajar, letting bugs in.

Kim had her own thoughts: Ron, if only you knew; it's more than just crush, it's more than the Moodulator; you saved us at Camp WannaWeep, you got the plant for me when I was dating Josh—what a mistake that was; I could so get into you—just say something, do something—give me a word, a glance, anything, let the Food Chain go itself.

Give the boy a lead-in, she told herself. "See you tomorrow?" Come on, Ron; if Amelia or Zita or Tara had said that, you would so get down, doing your "Who's the Man?" thing. Read my eyes, you goofball.

Sweat beaded Ron's head. Talk, dude, talk. "N-no prob, K.P."

Her eyes fell downcast; her head drooped and she turned again to the door.

Try again, doofus. "Well—"

She turned around again, heart palpitating, hand trembling; yes, yes, yes, Prom, movie, mall, a hug, a kiss, a handshake--.

"—g'night." He waved his hand lamely.

She felt like—what, a bug on a windshield? Like her heart had been run over by the scooter? She pushed open the door. "Yeah," she mumbled, "G'night." Sorrow and disappointment etched her face. Quick, close the door before you sniffle.

Ron stood like a limp parachute. Moron, he thought; moron, moron, moron! …moron.

He clapped his helmet on his a little too hard, and saw stars for a moment; he felt like doing it again, a little harder maybe. He mounted his scooter and putted off glumly; well, tomorrow was another day. No, his mind said; THIS was the day, the moment, the time; nobody has tomorrow. "Moron," he muttered to himself. Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket, glared upward, crossed his arms, and frowned. "Yeah, moron."

And off he went, slowly down the road.


	2. Chapter 2: The Stars in Her Eyes

A sequel to "Say Something, Ron"; based on "Say Something" and "I've Got To Tell Her" by Carbon F over at Dev Art.

Yes, momike and Ace Ian Combat, more than one-shot--took a little while.

Chpt 2: 2 Little, 2 Late

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Drakken thundered at him--actually whined: "Stop--Stop--oh, bother--whoever you are. This is my key to dominating the world--now _tell me, _before I subject you to the highest setting of my Ultimate Pain Inflictionator."

Shego leered. "C'mon, sidekick, 'fess up."

"Dammit, you two--I keep telling you--KIM IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" For the third time that night Ron sprang up in bed; another bad dream. He rubbed his temples and groaned;remorse was like a knot in his somach. I shoulda said something, he thought to himself.

He threw his pillow at his mirror. "MORON!" he shouted. Rufus squealed and dodged. The pillow knocked his lava lamp over on it's side. The picture of Kim hugging him started to topple over the edge.

"Holy Shi-!" Ron leapt from under the covers, across the floor, and intercepted the picture before it fell.

Mrs. Stoppable's concerned voice filtered up the stairs. "Ronnie--are you okay?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine." --not.

He meant to tell her after the Moodulator thing, when she said, "There's still fireworks." He meant to tell her after they had rescued Nakasumi-san--but he got distracted by that stupid toy car--and then Kim was pissed at him for having the Nakasumi scientists doing his homework while she was busting ass herself. And then--laugh and a half--all his papers spilled out on the parachute drop; it was poetic justice.

He should have swallowed his pride then--but it's the Manly Rule: you don't tell a girl--especially one like Kim--how bad you're stuck on her when you feel only one inch tall; it's got to be the right mood--you've got to look like you have it together. You've got to look in her eyes: Kim, you make my chest tighten; my heart speeds up, my ears pound, my vision gets hazy. Seeing you is like seeing a sky full of stars; they all form your constellation.

Ron wanted to see the stars in her eyes for him like she had for Josh Mon-kee. He wanted her to stumble and stammer, so he could act all cool and gallant--or better yet, he could just go for it and kiss the breath out of her--the hell with Dad Dr. P.'s Black Hole.

He should have told her after they had beaten Gill; her admiration of him was 'way up at that point, but he delayed--he had lots of time--they were tight--and he was more interested in leading a mission than following his heart.

Dumb ass--moron--sht for brains--all kinds of opportunities, all gone--well, today--today is it.

The Prom, the Prom--that damn Prom! And Bonnie's on Kim's case; "Food Chain" this, "Kim's force to go with her loser friend" that. Well F--ood chain YOU, Bonnie!

Waitaminute--what's to sweat? It's no big! Of _course_ we'll go to the Prom together--I mean, who else could there be--Mon-key? (snicker, LOL)

--Or maybe there'll be a mission that night--he could drop a hint--"Hey, Wade, dude--I got a feeling--like something's gonna happen that night, around 8:00 or 9:00. Could you keep watch on Drakken, or Sr. Sr. Sr.? The Prom's that night? Dude, you don't say--it's weird how that works--and _if_ anything happens, beep Kim--or beep her anyway, just to be safe.

I'm not asking you to lie--just kinda--lie. Then in the morning, Prom over, crisis over, tell her you're sorry, false alarm, she gets tweaked, I lay some B.S. on her, she gets over it, life goes on, no big--she 'll probably be relieved that she had an excuse to avoid the Prom.

He looked at himself in the mirror: No! Kim was worthy to be won honestly, not underhandedly.

He prayed: God, make me brave, like Gideon; strong, like Sampson; wise, like Solomon. He remembered the story of his great-grandpa Jon, who let Mim go. Not Ron.

He squared of and faced himself in the mirror. He thumped his fist on the dresser. "Today--I gotta tell her--today!"

Rufus put his hands on his hips. "Uh huh--today!"

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--Except the New Guy--Erik--showed up that day, and the moment she saw him, Ron knew--his last chance was gone.

Ah, yes, he thought with a white hot agony in his heart; that's what he had in mind--the stars in Kim's eyes.

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It's too late.

I've lost her.

And Erik Drake's got her.

Life blows.


	3. Chpt 3: Why Didn't He Say Something?

The Bible says that open enmity is better than silent love. People are such dopes. One side says, "Hey, I'm a man! I'm strong and silent! I'm not supposed to show my true feelings!" The other side says, "If he really loved me, he would know what I want and need! Besides, I've already told him so often!"

Ron regrets his failure to confide. What is it like from Kim's side?

Based on "They're SOOOO Crushin' " by Goofmore, "Behind The Scenes" by CarbonF at Dev-Art, and "So The Drama".

Some of the dialogue is from "Emotion Sickness" and "So The Drama".

Did I overdramatise? Probably. Was it fun? Yes.

CHAPTER 3--WHY DIDN'T HE SAY SOMETHING?

For more than a month after the Moodulator incident, Monique noticed Kim's dreamy gaze. She commented: "You pretend to be annoyed with him...then when he's not lookin', you give him 'The Look'."

Kim vehement denied it. "I do not!"

And Monique smiled knowlingly.

For more than a month after the cousin's wedding, Kim fondly reminisced about dancing with Ron. She had consented to be his "date" for friendship's sake, but the way he looked into her eyes; it warmed her down to her toes. She would retell the story and Monique would patiently listen. "He means so much to me--but we're just friends," Kim would hastily add. And Monique would give her the sceptical glance.

For more than a month after his cousin's wedding, Ron fondly reminisced about dancing with Kim. He had persuaded her to be his "date" for friendship's sake, but the way she snuggled her head against his chest; it warmed him down to his toes. He would retell the story and Felix would patiently listen. "She means so much to me--but we're just friends," Ron would hastily add. And Felix would roll his eyes.

Monique and Felix compared notes. "They're _so_ crushing on each other!"

"Tell me! When are they gonna finally get serious?"

"Dunno. Hope it's soon! It's driving me crazy!"

Laughter and high-five.

Ron had every intention of bringing up the topic with Kim. Kim gave him lots of hints, lots of opportunities, lots of time. But there were missions, and school projects, and the Food Chain. Kim had Cheer Squad, Student Council, Swim Team. Ron had--well, lead feet. Slowly Kim's hopes wilted. Well, maybe it was for the best. What would dating do to their friendship? She finally gave up. She nursed her private hurt.

Erik appeared and stole her heart. The hurt went away--or at least she didn't notice it.

Ron was quiet lately. In fact, more than quiet; he was glum, withdrawn, downright morose. Kim was used to his poor behavior when she dated Josh Mankey, but it took her a while to realize--this was different--he wasn't the same. she hadn't heard a "Booyah" in weeks. And her heart went out to him.

The other day, when Erik was pushing her on the swing, she looked over for a moment and saw him on the see-saw--alone. He looked so lonely that she wanted to run and hug him--but Erik took her to Bueno Nacho.

They passed him on the way to school. Erik's motorcycle made Ron's scooter look like it was going backward.. Now if he hadn't squandered all his naco money, he could afford some new wheels. Kim waved cheerily.

Kim saw Ron on the evening news at the Grand Opening of the remodeled Bueno Nacho. He was going to pieces. "I'm losing everything I ever cared about!"

It was time to confront him. Wade gave her a hint: the old treehouse.

"I have an armed weapon!"

"Put the slingshot down Huck Finn, it's me."

She finally got Ron to open up. "You know what was worse? Spending a whole summer away from you."

_Why did he bring that up now?_

"Y'know, maybe something more than the Bueno Nacho sitch is bothering you."

_She so didn't intend to say that--head in the game, Kimmie!_

And the words just spilled out of him. "Talking about Erik, why--oops--didn't mean to blurt that out--no-why would I have a problem with Erik? No--I'm down with Erik!"

_He bared his hurt and opened up her own again. It was too late for that! She was with Erik! Quick! Steer the conversation back to safe ground!_

"Ron, Erik's not going to change what we're all about. We'll always be tight."

_There, damage control._

But Ron's gaze stabbed her. "Pretty words, Kim"

_He saw right throught her._

"Kim!" Erik's voice came up from the ground.

_Thank goodness! He was rescuing her from a sticky sitch!_

Next day was the Prom. The night would be theirs--hers and Erik's. At last she would kiss him--maybe more.

It was after school. The Prom was just hours away. Monique walked with Kim to their lockers. Erik was waiting. Kim ran up and hugged him. She opened her locker to stash her books.

Suddenly she noticed the picture of Ron, Rufus, and herself on the inside of the door. It drew her attention like never before. A shocking sadness fell on her like a cold blanket. Voices echoed in her head.

"I've got to go--I'll be back!"

Monique and Erik stared at each other in total confusion

Kim slammed open the door to the girls' restroom. Damn! The room wasn't empty. Tara jumped startled and stared at Kim.

Kim ran to the stall and slammed the stall door behind her. The stupid thing had no latch! She leaned against the partition. She could feel the sorrow welling up. Supress! Supress!

Tara looked in with hesitancy and concern. "Kim?"

Kim covered her face with her hands. "It's nothing! Go away, Tara! Leave me alone!" A sob escaped her lips--another sob. She buried her head in her arms.

Tara was astonished and embarrassed. This was the I-Can-Do-Anything girl. This was the Cheer Squad Captain. She never saw anything like it.

Razor-sharp memories intruded.

_Bonnie had taunted her. "Is there anything sadder than going to the Prom with your Just-A-Friend?"_

_Monique had tried to reassure her._

_"Monique, you were totally right. _

_"I know... What was I right about? "_

_"The Bonnie problem. Non-issue. Who cares about the Food Chain? Ron and I are cool."_

_"Stand by your Ron!"_

_The Tweebs got her tweaked. "Attention! Cooties detected! Kim's got a new boyfriend!"_

_Even Erik: "You know what my mission is? To take you to the Prom."_

And the last memory--no! Not that! Please, God, not that!

_"So I guess the crush and everything is all Moodulator, huh?"_

_"Not everything, there's still fireworks."_

Kim clung to Tara and cried like a baby.

"I thought he might care for me! I tried to wait! I tried to give him time! I wanted him to tell me--how he felt about me! I wanted him to say something! Why didn't he say something?"

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4: Speak Up, Ron

My late mother-in-law Lena was a housewife on a dairy farm. She was a cook extraordinaire. She sort of followed the recipe. She never measured any ingredient; add an extra item; into the bowl it went. And her meals--wow.

I suppose in the K.P.A.U., Ron Stoppable is the chef extraordinaire. Never measure anything. Never bother with what sequence you add the ingredient. It all turns out.

KP-StD is a good story. In the making of a good story, should one be careful about how much one puts in, or in what order things happen? Perhaps. In my fanfic, I have taken liberties, read between the lines, had fun. If I jump around a bit on the timescale, I beg your patience.

So far, it's been a case of he said, she said, he thought, she thought. We will now stir some extra voices into the mix.

& thanks ever so much to Joe Stoppinghem for spotting the error.

I reiterate the last time: open enmity is better than hidden love. Some would even say hatred is better than indifference.

**__**

CHAPTER THREE: SPEAK UP, RON

_A._

Amelia Mirador took pride in her appearance. It was all she had. If she was smart--and lucky--it might be her ticket out of her parents' poverty and lifestyle.

She was the prettiest girl at Middleton High, with the possible exception of Kim Possible. But--strike one: she was Latino--strike two: she didn't have the brains of Justine Flanner--or Kim Possible--strike three: she had no friends, especially since Bonnie Rockwaller caught her making out with Brick Flagg. The Food Chain shredded her.

There was the time Ron Stoppable tried flirting with her when the Animology thing was big. PInk-Sloth-and-Silver-Badger-soulmate-thing. _Por Dios._

The truth was she envied what he had with Kim Possible. Someone to watch your back--to know that you could be so _estupido_ and still be tight with the other person--it must be like _Paradiso_.

A week after Erik Drake came to Middleton, he was hit on by Amelia. "Hey, New Boy, we haven't met yet." She offered him her hand. "I'm Amelia. I'm told you're Erik."

He walked by uninterested. "That's what they tell me, too."

He was good-looking. He had the dark Mediterranean complexion. He dressed well. He might be worth the effort. She caught up and walked beside him. "I see you're with Kim Possible."

"They say that, too."

"We could have some fun. I know how to show you a good time."

"Not interested."

"C'mon, a stud like you, interested in that goody-goody?"

Erik kept walking.

Amelia was indignant. "You know what they say about her? 'Kim Possible Kan't Put-out'."

Erik grabbed Amelia's wrist and twisted it behind her back. "Get it straight! You don't interest me!"

Amelia could swear that she felt electricity coursing through his hand. "All right, I got it! Now let me go!" But he didn't. "Ouch! Please! You're hurting me!"

His voice turned low and threatening. "You're not going to tell Barkin--or the cops--or especially Kim Possible about our talk. Got it?"

"Yes! _Si!_ I got it!"

Amelia hurried home that night. She thought she saw Erik following her. She shut the door to her parents' house and breathed a sigh of relief. It was just her imagination, she told herself.

The next morning, as she stepped out the door, she took no more than five paces when her wrist was grabbed from behind.

Amelia was not easily frightened. She had fought off her share of assaults. She started to twirl around with her elbow up. She would so nail this garbage, this _basura_, whoever he was. But her other wrist was grabbed. Both her arms were pinned behind her. In panic she started to scream, but a hand clapped over her mouth and cut it off.

The whispered voice filled her with terror. "Just to remind you, _chica_. I know where you live. We're gonna keep quiet, aren't we?"

Amelia nodded. Instantly the hand released her mouth and the iron grip released her wrists. She looked, and no one was there. She collapsed to the ground sobbing in terror.

Amelia Mirador spent most of her junior year living like an abuse victim. When not is school, she stayed indoors, never going out. At school she was quiet and withdrawn. Like all abuse victims, she was an unwilling accomplice in the conspiracy of silence. Fear of reprisal at the hands of her abuser kept her from seeking help that literally was in arm's reach.

When Erik came near her, she would stare wildly about, like a trapped animal, and finally look down at the floor.

Erik would taunt her. "Good girl, _chica._ You're as quiet as a mouse. Y'know, it's too bad I scared you away. You're finally getting interesting. I like my women submissive--if you know what I mean."

--Which would cause her to run to the restroom and heave her guts.

Amelia Mirador looked like hell all that year: weight loss, dark circles around her eyes. Rumors spread: she's doing drugs; she's bulimic; she's knocked up.

The week before the Prom, Amelia had seen Ron's meltdown on network TV. She was in the restroom stall next to Kim when Kim had her meltdown in front of Tara. She felt a great wave of sadness for the two she admired from a distance. In a way, it was so cool--Kim and Ron--a real couple. All they needed was to really open their eyes and see each other--or someone to do it for them. But there were a couple big obstacles--the Food Chain and Kim's (ew--hurl factor) "boyfriend". Damn the _basura_! And so, like all abuse victims who find their courage, Amelia Mirador was moved to compassion for another, and fed up with her abuser.

Amelia took a deep breath and hardened her resolve. Someone needed to run interference--and someone needed to warn Kim about Erik. Any volunteers? Just one, it seemed. "Okay, Pink Sloth," she said to herself, "Your Silver Badger owes you for treating you like scum. Here goes..."

She would need help. A name came to her. She could number the really decent guys in school on one hand--and this one shared a history with Kim.

Amelia tracked him down during lunch while he was at his locker. "Josh? Josh Mankey?"

Josh was used to this from girls--the looks, the giggles, the clumsy attempts to ask him out--and to his credit, he always treated them with respect. "Amelia? Hey, you look--scared! What's up!"

"You and Kim Possible used to date. I need help. I gotta get word to her--about what I know."

_B._

Ron Stoppable needed a new insult for himself. _Moron_ didn't work any more. It didn't make him feel bad anymore. It didn't cover up the bigger hurt of losing Kim. He had done it again--messed up another chance to tell her.

The week before the Prom, Ron Stoppable was circulating his Bueno Nacho petition. Ron could feel the tension between Kim and himself. He watched her staring at her friends. It was the Food Chain. People were pairing off for the Prom--Brick and Bonnie--even Tara (yeah--he screwed up with her) and some guy. And Kim looked so lonely.

"I know what's bothering you," He said quietly.

"You_ do_?" She twirled around, surprised. Expectancy in her eyes.

That wonderful light He should have asked her then--or confessed his heart--but he choked--again. "It's my fault Drakken and Shego got away."

Again the look of dashed hope in her face. It hit him like a club. He should have fallen to his knees before her and proclaimed his passion for her--to hell with the Food Chain--to hell with his pride.

She weakly reassured him. "No big! We'll get 'em!" (She felt like she looked like a cheap imitation of her father. "Don't worry, Ron. Anything can Stop a Stoppable.")

He weakly offered the petition.

Her brow was clouded with doubt, but then it cleared up. She reached for the petition. "C'mon--let me sign that thing." And she hugged him. His heart was warmed by the affirmation.

But later it al came undone. Kim and Ron were having lunch together (that rarely happened any more) when she made the proposal: "Ron--I have this totally amazing awesome idea. Remember how Bonnie helped me with Dementor? What if we take Erik on missions? Isn't it spankin'?" She was so cute when she was like this--bubbly, animated--usually crushing on somebody

Ron thought: _Yeah, K.P. lt's bondiggety. Like totally fer sher awesome. Booyah... _

...Sick and Wrong. The majorest hurl factor of his life. Worse than when the Nakasumi assembly line robot had spun him like a centrifuge. That was only dizziness--this was a groin kick to his heart.

Ron was walking through the hall with his head down, clutching his Bueno Nacho petition. He stared at Kim's name. She did it for him--because she was his friend. _Freakin' idiot, he told himself. You messed up again. How do you tell someone that she's all you think about--and then you have to go and hassle her about some stupid taco joint. You could have presented her with the owner's manual to your heart. "Sign here," you could tell her, "And I belong to you"--and then it would be out in the open. She could take you in or turn you down, but it would be neat and clean, no lingering suffering. Freakin' idiot; why do these brilliant ideas have to occur five minutes too late?_

He nearly bumped into--Josh Mankey?

"Dude!"

"Sorry, Josh."

Another Kimmie boyfriend. Now his day was complete.

Josh was actually walking with Ron. "Hey, Ron."

"Josh?"

"Kim is really into Erik."

Morosely. "Yeah."

"You sound bummed."

"Me? Nah. I'm down with Kim and Erik."

"Y'know, for a while, it looked you and Kim were getting into each other."

"Yeah. Well, things happen."

"Tell me. Kim and I were on and off--"

"--While Tara and I were on and off." Ron came out of his depression and started to pay attention. Josh Mankey striking up a conversation with Ron Stoppable? About shared experiences? About Kim and heartache? Awk-wierd.

"Dude, I heard about the thing you did for Kim the night I took her to the movie. You went down to the rain forest and got some mysterious purple plant. You may not think so, but she is like your biggest fan. She told me about the time you disguised yourself as her dad when all the this Drakken dude was kidnapping all the scientists, and the time the 'big bugs' really grossed her out. Then there was the time that cute Japanese exchange student was hanging around Middleton, Yor--Your--"

"Yoriko?"

"Yeah, what you said. Kim was jelling for weeks. Listen! don't believe what Bonnie tells you! The cheerleaders respect what you do with the mascot thing--even if the foam gets a little messy. And once Kim got past her starry-eyed crush over me--kinda cute at first--it was 'Wade did this' and '_Ron _did this and that and the other."

Ron was positively incredulous. "Dude--are you on the level?"

"Dude, I heard her say it. She 'couldn't save the world with you.' I don't think Kim realized it, but I think she was crushing on you more than she was crushing on me. Kinda cramped my style. It's hard to be all aloof and cool and stuff while the girl I'm dating is hero-worshipping--on you."

"Sorry about that."

"Hey, it's cool. By the way..."

"Huh?"

"...Erik is no good. I just get vibes. I'd stay close to Kim. She's so gonna need you. Caio."

And that was that. Josh left as quickly as he came. Ron began to feel positively warm-hearted toward Josh Mankey.

_C._

Ron was in his treehouse. He watched Kim as she left the treehouse. She put her arm through Erik's as they walked and leaned her head on his shoulder for just a moment. Ron felt his heart being torn out of his chest. He screamed silently in his mind. **_"K.P.!"_**

Kim flinched as though she had received an electrical shock. She could have sworn she heard Ron's voice in her head screaming **_"K.P.!"_**

Her entire body froze in an instant. She turned her head so quick that her hair flipped. Their eyes met--the look she saw--like a deer in the headlights before the car hit it. She turned back around. She wished she hadn't seen that.

Why now? she said to herself. She couldn't deal with this! It's too late! She's with Erik!

Deep within her, Kim could feel a little-girl-urge to cry.

Ron remained in the treehouse--thinking--remembering--reproaching himself.

Kim was so amazing. The way she tackled the Ninjas at the Nakasumi Parade; the way she rescued Nakasumi--and Ron--from Shego's grappling hook--and even gossiping with Monique on the Kimmunicator. And the way she rescued Ron from all the traps when they were scuba-diving. And the way she was mano a mano with Shego at Big Daddy Brotherson's night club. Wow

Shego got away--both times. It was Ron's bad--muy bad. He wore the blaster briefs instead of the rocket skates. And then he had to be a royal priss--he had to go and play with the laser lipstick. Kim might have nailed both Drakken _and_ Shego if not for Ron's dipwad clumsiness. Stupid frik'n asinine behavior. Idiot. Moron. And whatever else might apply.

And the last mission they were on together--rescuing Mr. Dr. P. from Drakken's many-tentacled thing--just like the Old Days--B.E.--before Erik. And now she wanted Erik to join them. Would he train Erik--like Ned trained Lars--before Lars replaced him at Bueno Nacho?

Why feel this way about her now: was it because she was suddenly unattainable? It was like something somebody had said--the more you want a thing, the harder it is to get--or was it the other way around?

He only knew this. Kim had crushed on Josh Mankey, and Ron had jelled--and the way Kim now felt about Erik Drake was far beyond crush. And what Ron now felt was the most exquisite kind of torture--was this love? To want a person that much?

That last mission might well be the Last Mission. Ron's black mood deepened--Erik Drake, Kim Possible's new partner. He wanted to hurl. "Hey, little buddy," he asked Rufus, "Would you be down with Erik as Kim's new partner?"

Rufus stared. He cupped a hand over his mouth and puffed his cheeks, as though _he_ would hurl. "Erik! Yuck!" He ran to the treehouse entrance--"Erik sucks!"--and flashed an obscene hand gesture.

Ron stared. Did Rufus just flip Erik the bird? He exploded the laughter. "Dude! Where did you learn that? That is so cool! But don't let Mom catch you doing it!"

Rufus gave Ron the "thumbs up". "Okay," he said.

Another voice--a familiar voice--was heard from the ground. "Dude--you up there?"

Ron and Rufus stared at each other. "Man--key?" Rufus asked, astonished.

Ron peered over. It was indeed Josh Mankey. This was so like being at school. Why not have Barkin and the Cheer Squad over?

"Can we talk?"

From out of the corner of the corner of his eye, Ron saw--Amelia Mirador!--drawing near.

"Dude--there's something you need to hear!"

Ron had never seen Josh with so serious a facial expression

Major awk-wierd--and definitely past the weight limit of the treehouse. "Hold up! I'm coming down."

Amelia looked so--subdued. She cast her gaze to the ground, hardly daring to look up.

"Ron--" she stuttered. "I gotta apologize--I was such a prick that time you asked me out--you and Josh are about the only two guys in the whole school who treat me with some kinda respect--."

Josh squeezed her hand. "It's okay--just tell 'im about Erik."

"Well, 'way back when Erik first came to school..."

And Amelia related haltingly how Erik had hurt, stalked, and threatened her.

She concluded. "I should'a gone to the principal--or the cops--weeks ago. But Erik--he put the fear in me--. Damn him! He's evil!" A tear trickled down her cheek.

"Thanks, Am," said Josh quietly.

Amelia took Ron's hand. "Even if you're a dork, you're a good man, Ron. You don't need the _cojones _and the _machisimo_. Kim is lucky to have you. I know you'll take care of her." And surprise of surprises, she kissed Ron on the cheek, and hurried away.

Ron stared after her

"Well-what do you think?" Josh asked.

Ron was skeptical. "Dude, don't you see she's trippin'? She's trippin' so bad she needs luggage!"

"Dude, that is so not her gig. She likes to get laid, not wasted."

"Then somebody slipped her something."

"Think about it. That's all I'm saying."

"No! I don't believe it! I know what you're trying to do, but I'm down with Erik! I told Kim that already!"

"Dude, Kim is very popular. Do you know how many guys would like to bang her?"

Ron's voice took on a threatening edge. "What?"

"Dude--that's what I mean! You _are _into Kim! And hey, it's cool! Don't worry. Brick would so beat them to a pulp. He's got a crush on her, too--but its a good kinda crush."

"Brick?"

"Why do you think Bonnie is jellin' so much? Brick's respect for Kim is what makes the big guy hold the car door open for Bonnie--even though it kills her to admit to it. Why do you think you can't get a date?"

"Because I'm a dork and I have a naked mole for a pet?"

"Besides that. Even Malcolm Nevius gets a date. The girls are all resentful and they take it out on you. Why do you think the guys on 'D' hall hassle you so much? Dude, you are so envied! You have no idea of how many broken hearts there are because of Kim Possible!"

"And--?"

"Bottom line: Erik's no good for her. You know it and I know it. There's only one meant for Kim and that's you."

Ron's head swam. Josh's words came to him like a light in a dark place. "Even--if I buy into all this--what am I supposed to do?

Josh slapped him on the shoulder. "Dude you're a nice guy Don't finish last! Step up! Be the Ron Dog! I know you got it in you!"

All the unkind thoughts and resentment Ron ever had against Josh had utterly died away.

"Gotta go," Josh said. "Gotta see Amelia home. A good man looks after his lady." He smiled, waved, and was gone.

_E._

The family was in the dining room. Mrs. Dr. P. was preparing tomorrow's lunches for herself, her husband, and her sons. (Kim thought it was uncool to carry a sack lunch to school, and was willing to eat the mystery meat that the cafeteria always served.) Mr. Dr. P. was dishing ice cream for himself, his wife, and the boys. (Again, Kim observed a dietary code as strict as Ron's Jewish Kosher laws: 1. never eat ice cream with your fam; it will compromise your diet--and your appearance of being on a diet; 2. ice cream--or desert--with your friends is a social ritual--as long as everyone joins in--and will therefore not compromise your diet--or, ice cream--or desert--with your friends--especially if there are only two or three together--is a comfort food, especially if one of you is mourning a loss, like a friend moving away, or a breakup; 3. ice cream eaten alone represents a forgivable lapse of the rules, especially if eaten as a comfort food, and the calories will not stay; 4. ice cream with your fam is legal for holidays, birthdays, weddings, or family pizza night.) Kim had carefully trained up her family, so no one offered her any, or thought it strange when she was standing there not having any.

But Kim kept standing there. Mrs. Dr. P. noticed it first: the profound sadness on her daughter's face. "Dear? Are you okay?"

"Mom?" Kim murmured. "Could we talk?"

A stillness started to settle over the room. Mrs. Dr. quietly shooed her husband and sons out of the room. Kim sad down and folded her hands in her lap.

"Kimmie--I haven't seen you this quiet since you became a woman."

Kim rolled her eyes. Trust her mother to get sentimental over her first period. "Mom, please?"

"Sorry dear--I'm listening." Annette looked at her daughter intently. "This is about Ron, isn't it? The way he kept looking at you when you had Erik over for supper."

Kim nodded. The little mouth quivered. The eyes glistened.

It was bigger than Puppy Pout. Annette's heart was wrung. "This is bigger than the Prom--and Ron is more than just Ron."

A single tear rolled down from each eye. Kim cupped a hand over her mouth, and tried to speak without weeping. "Oh, Mom--I have no idea how this started--and I have no idea what to do..."

**__**

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Chapter 5: Too Late?

to BrianBLee and CometMoon: funny you should ask about finishing. I just happen to have--and ending? NO! ANOTHER CHAPTER!

You might notice my reference to Kim and Ron kissing in the treehouse; consult my other fic: "The Seven Kisses of Kim Possible."

As to the Narnia reference; don't mind that; it just refers to "The Lion, the Treehouse, and the Naked Mole Rat."

Pardon the reference to Sparta, Alexander, and Shakespeare; I'm just a dweeb.

On with the show.

based on K.P. StD. & some of the dialogue is from the movie. Kim, Ron, Amelia, etc. belong to Disney.

CHAPTER 5

The night before a great battle has always been significant.

The soldiers of ancient Sparta always bathed before a battle--not because they were vain, but to prepare for death. It was the custom for a family to wash the body of their young man slain in battle before they buried the body. The Spartans were committed to fighting so fiercely that they always expected to die in battle, so they just wanted to spare their family the effort.

In the fourth century B.C. Alexander the Great was about to meet the army of the Persian Emperor Darius, many times larger than his. It was made up of many nationalities from all over Asia. Darius commanded his soldiers to shout and scream battle cries all night, to fire up their own spirits and to frighten Alexander's Greek and Macedonian army, camped a short distance away, with the sound of a huge number of troops. But Alexander told his soldiers to turn in early and get a good night's sleep. In the morning, his soldiers were refreshed, and Darius's army was already tired.

William Shakespeare wrote a play about Richard the Third, who became King by murder and assassination, including two young boys whom he had thrown into prison and stabbed by a couple hired killers. On the night before his last battle, he was visited in his nightmares by the departed spirits of all his victims, who assured him that he would not survive. The same spirits came to the dreams of his enemy, Henry the Duke, and comforted him, and assured him of his victory.

And so the night before the greatest conflict in the lives of Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, forces were being brought into play, preparations were made, and all the participants moved into position. Getting ready. Waiting for the signal.

While Kim was tearfully confiding to her mother...

After the talk with Josh and Amelia, Ron leaned against the tree, thinking deeply. He had food for thought. He no longer was down with Kim and Erik. Actually, he never was, but he was willing to ignore his own heart--if Erik was what Kim wanted. If he was good enough for her, that was coolness. But this new story that Amelia brought...

Erik was not what he seemed. This was Ron's chance to come off as a savior--assuming the story was true. Josh might have his own agenda--he might want Kim back himself. Erik playing Kim--Josh playing Ron--Amelia might be playing Josh. Maybe Amelia made this up to get back at Erik for jilting her (like Joseph and Potiphar's wife in the Bible). How do you tell what's true? Ron needed someone wise. He sorely missed Sensei. He wondered--could Wade somehow call up Yamanuchi & reverse charges? "Hello, I have a person-to-person call for Sensei-sama."

Ron smiled to himself. He was getting spacey. Maybe he could transfer to Yamanuchi and fall in love with Yoriko. There was a sure thing; Yori seemed to have a much more steadfast heart than Middleton girls. Bonnie, Zita, Tara, even Kim--always crushing on someone new. "Oh, Stoppable-san, how you make me laugh with your American-style humor," Yoriko would say. The talk-show-experts were always saying women like men who make them laugh. Yeah, that was a good idea--forget Middleton.

Don't be stupid, Stoppable. Your life is here: Bueno Nacho, Smarty Mart, your Maddog Mascot career, your synagogue--. No, really--get serious. _She's _here--your sun, your moon, the center of your universe. What would _she _say? "Head in the game, Ron." But he needed to bounce some ideas off someone older.

"Dad?"

"Son?"

"Can we talk?"

Abe Stoppable set down his paper and gave his son an earnest gaze, his undivided attention.

Ron took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "It's about Kim, Dad--things have changed between us."

Abe nodded. "I've heard that Kim has a boyfriend. Appears to come from wealth. Good-looking, popular, sociable. Has polish. Knows what to say and when to say it. Your mother heard one of her customers at the bank say that her daughter thinks he's 'hawt'--or something. In short, he makes you feel like a--what's the word--a dweeb?"

"Yeah, kinda. I'm outclassed, Dad."

"Son, your old man hasn't spent much time doing things with you in your life. We've never really played 'catch' or 'one on one'. I haven't encouraged you to be athletic, like that Maddog starting 'back--what's his name?"

"Brick Flagg."

"Thank you--and I haven't encouraged you to pursue scholastic goals, like Dr. Nevius does his son Malcolm--"

"There're some things you don't want to encourage, Dad--trust me."

"Still--how Jim Possible has motivated his daughter--like he tells her, 'Anything is possible for a Possible'--I sincerely regret not being more supportive."

"Dad--you've been great--and it's not like you have this badical occupation like rocket scientist or neurosurgeon--"

Mr. Stoppable made a pained facial expression.

"--Well, maybe I shouldn't be so--um--blunt," said Ron…

"No, you're right, son. I am what I am. I make jokes about how being an actuary guarantees me a job anywhere they dehumanize people by making them into numbers on a ledger. In fact, it's hard to watch 'A Christmas Carol' every Christmas, because that's one of the things they fault old Ebenezer Scrooge for. I've tried to make up for it by being as scrupulous and honest as possible--pun not intended--in my profession and treating my clients with all the courtesy I believe they're entitled to. And of course I'm profoundly grateful that God has allowed me serve Him and His people musically--as a cantor."

"Dad, just hearing you makes me feel closer to God. Kim says that even though she doesn't understand the Hebrew, she can feel the love and the heart you put into your singing. She says it gives her the shivers. And I know Rabbi Katz is so proud to have someone as good as you in the congregation. He says that all the other rabbis in the Tri-City area envy him."

"Thank you, Ron. But let me say this--you've made me very proud. You've accomplished more than anyone in our family in the past couple generations, you and Rufus on your missions with Kim. You're a chip off the old block--just like my grandfather Jon. And let me tell you something--about him and Miriam, Kim's great-great-aunt--and about you and Kim. Jonathan married a good woman, my grandmother Abigail, and was faithful to her--but for the rest of his life, he regretted letting Mim slip away. Two things I've read recently: something Andrew Jackson wrote: 'One man with courage makes a majority'; and something Benjamin Franklin wrote: 'You may delay but time will not'. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Kim and this Erik Drake bothers you. Don't delay. Have the courage that you need--that I know is inside you. And if things don't work out--well, you gave it your best shot."

Ron took a deep breath again. "Thanks, Dad. This helps."

They embraced. "Do good, son."

The sun set on the day before the Junior Prom. All over Middleton, juniors attending the high school anticipated tomorrow night. Girls laid out their gowns. Guys went through the checklist: pick up the tuxedo from the tux rental, pick up the corsage from the florist, and gas up the car.

Kim slept poorly. She tried to picture herself in Erik's arms. It didn't work.

The Moodulator kiss--the Moodulator tears. The way she heard Ron's voice in her head after she left the treehouse. She felt the back of her neck almost superstitiously. Nope. No chip there.

Approximately one hundred miles west of Middleton, at the Bueno Nacho World Headquarters, a blue skinned man dressed in a blue denim country western style leisure suit sat in his executive office cleaning his nails. His suit was studded with sequins that glittered in the light.

"My hands are _not _too small," he muttered to himself. "They're the hands of an--artiste. Killigan has obviously taken one too many hits to the cranium with a stray golf ball. And Shego? Well, she just likes to torment me. But I'll show her. I'll show them all. And I'll show Little Miss 'She-Thinks-She's-All-That'--tomorrow night."

The phone rang, and he hit the speakerphone button. "Yes?' he said absently.

"Sir? It's Stevens."

"Yes, Stevens? What is it? I'm busy!"

"But--sir--you ordered me to update you every morning and evening!"

"And that's why I'm so busy--taking reports from all my regional managers!"

Stevens hemmed and hawed, and the blue man lost patience. "Out with it, Stevens! Is Miss Possible still infatuated with her boyfriend?"

"Yessir! Hopelessly! But--there are a couple glitches!"

"Glitches?" rumbled the blue man ominously.

"Well--Synthodrone 901 has been continuing to display--how do I put this, sir--intimidating and abusive verbal behavior."

"Explain! Has the object of this abuse been Kim Possible?"

"No, sir. It's been another student, an Amelia Mirador."

"Can you account for this?"

"No, sir! We've examined the programming for the behavioral upgrades. It's entirely outside the parameters of the behavioral programming algorithms."

"Has Synthodrone 901 continued to be affectionate and charming to Miss Possible?"

"Yesssir. She totally infatuated with him, according to our audio-visual feed from his cerebral processor--as I mentioned."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Uh--the girl was seen last night with a Josh Mankey--Miss Possible's former boyfriend--visiting Ron Stoppable at his treehouse--where he and Miss Possible spent much time in their earlier youth."

"Visiting _who_? Stopwatch? Stopsign? That name doesn't ring any bells!"

"Miss Possible's mission partner, sir. The Sidekick."

"Oh, _him_! What about it?"

"We have every reason to believe the girl has decided to confide in someone--as victims of abuse invariably do."

"That's why I have psychological profilers on this project, Stevens! What's their analysis?"

"We've observed a noticeable deterioration in the relationship between Miss Possible and her partner. We attribute it to his jealousy of her new boyfriend. We suspect that he himself has harbored a secret unrequited affection for her for a while. Miss Possible has in turn distanced herself emotionally from him."

"Yes--_yes_! I remember! That was the topic of your last report! Something about the young buffoon going to pieces on live TV!"

"Yessir. We suspect that even if Mr. Stoppable--the Sidekick--takes the story seriously----Miss Possible will not be disposed to believe any rumor against her boyfriend--owing to the Sidekick's continual jealousy of all Miss Possible's boyfriends--including Mr. Mankey--and Miss Mirador refusing to date him--several times."

"Hah! Stevens, this is delightful! Angst and heartbreak! Injured feelings! Misunderstanding! Monitor this situation carefully!"

"Yessir." A wave of relief. A crisis past.

"Waitaminute!"

"Sir?"

"Stevens! I have an idea!" He rubbed his hands together with glee. Oh, what fun! One more thing for Kimmie to stress over! And one more thing to destroy her with when she finally learned the truth--. "Order Synthodrone 901 to confide to Miss Possible--with great regret--that the buffoon is in an intimate relationship with Miss Mirador--that he saw them together at said treehouse. See to it, Stevens!"

"Yessir!"

"And, by the way, Stevens!"

"Sir?"

"Don't drop the ball on this--or it's back to the Syntho Goo Cleanup Detail for you!"

"Yessir."

"--Or maybe I'll put you on the Mutant Lifeform Project--to replace Henderson."

"Y-yessir."

The blue man punched another button on his speakerphone. "Smith!"

"Sir?" said Smith.

"You've been keeping track of the distribution of our Little Diabloes?"

"Yes sir--as you ordered."

"And you have the audio and video footage?"

"Yes sir. All TV and radio spots and promotional offers."

"Did you record last night's evening news segment?"

"The coverage of the Little Diablo's popularity at our Middleton branch? Where Ron Stoppable--er, Kim Possible's partner--tried to steal the microphone from the reporter?

"The very one! Run that segment on my office monitor--continuous replay!"

"Yes, sir."

It was wonderful! It was fiendishly delightful! Oh, the malice! He could feel his skin turning a darker shade of blue by the minute.

And so it was in the morning, when Erik came on his motorcycle to pick up Kim, he seemed subdued.

"Erik? What's wrong?"

He hesitated. "Something I saw last night--when we left Ron's."

"What is it?"

"It's been bothering me all night. I don't know--."

"Amelia Mirador--she and Ron--."

"Tell me, Erik!"

Erik looked up. "They were making out, Kim. Liplock. Tonsil hockey. In the treehouse. I'm sorry."

Amelia. The High School Hooker, they called her. Ron had asked her out a few times, but Kim chalked it up to desperation. Typical Ron-ness. That he would stoop that low.

Kim staggered slightly. She covered her mouth with her hands, then her eyes, then her mouth again. She felt ill. She felt betrayed. This was a kick in the stomach. If Ron had balled up his fist and punched her in the gut, she could not have felt worse.

Erik put an arm around her shoulders. "Kim? Are you gonna be okay?"

No. Nothing will ever be okay again. Years of friendship. Dozens of missions. All the joy and laughter and hugs. They read stories together in the treehouse. She kissed him in the treehouse--that first time in Preschool--just after he gave her the flower. And again the night of her tenth birthday--after their trip to Narnia (but those are other stories). They danced together at his cousin's wedding. And he had the nerve to ask her if the Moodulator kiss meant anything.

Kim leaned back her head. She puckered her lips. "You've been bugging me for that kiss," she whispered. "Tonight. And maybe more than a kiss."

"Can I say 'Booyah'?" Erik whispered back.

She frowned. "Please don't. I never want to hear that word again."

Kim leaned her head on Erik's chest. That was that. Ron was history--as a partner, a friend, or anything else. She could save the world without him. She would take Erik on as a partner--if he would consent.

Unseen by Kim, Erik smirked.

For the first time in either of their lives, Kim and Ron did not see or hear from each other for an entire school day. Kim dreaded encountering him by the lockers. She wanted to--so she could grab him by the lapels and scream at him.

But no sign of Ron. Not by the lockers. Not in the lunchroom. When he had moved to Norway for a week, he still got in touch every five minutes via the Ronunicator.

Ron made himself scarce that day. He was silent and withdrawn. A great weight lay on his heart; the weight of unspoken words. Was it too late? Would speaking the words bring to release?

He thought about hanging out in "D" Hall and taking his chances with the bullies. He thought about hiding in the closet--the same one Kim had locked him in back in Sophomore year during the Spirit Week Dance.

Bonnie saw Ron that day. She saw the subdued emotion. She walked by with Brick. She wanted to gloat. _Hey, Loser! Gonna show up at the Prom? Wearing the Mascot mask? Will the little pink thing be your date? Gonna cut in on Erik while he dances with Kimmie? Foam on K's gown? She'll love that!_ Yes, it was good to be alive.

Kim saw Ron's scooter in the parking lot after school. So he was there. She thought about calling Wade. _Locate Ron for me._ She thought about ditching Erik and the Prom for a mission. _Are you** sure** nothing's going on, Wade? DNAmy? The Seniors'? Killligan? Drakken and Shego? Even the Bebes? Call Global Justice! Surely there's a crisis in the world somewhere!_ A mission. Her and Ron and Rufus. How good that sounded.

But those days were gone--with the Preschool--and the Pixies--the braces.

She looked up at Erik. He smiled at her. For a moment the thought crossed her mind._ What am I doing with** you**? Where are your freckles, your big ears, your whiney voice, your naked mole rat living in your pocked, your pants that keep falling down? No, you don't have any of those things. You're perfect!_

If Ron had appeared at that moment on the broken-down scooter, wearing the Zorpox costume, the frothy Maddog mask, the Fearless Ferret costume, the Norwegian hat, and his father's tux, with his mouth stuffed full of nacho chips, belching--doing everything that ever tweaked and embarrassed her--she would have left Erik by the curb and rode off with Ron into the sunset--on the back of the scooter--or even pushing it to make it go faster.

But her knight did not appear. And the urge went away.

Ron held counsel with himself as he put on Dad's tux and struggled with the bow tie. "I don't know. It's not like Kim hasn't dated other guys before. I mean, I was the one she called when she and Walter Nelson locked braces I got Mom to drive them to the orthodontist. And the whole Josh Mankey thing. I was never in favor of that. But I was there for Kim."

Rufus tied the bow tie in an origami fold.

"Uh huh, yeah, very funny," said Ron sourly. Okay, okay, there's something different now, something between us. Who am I kidding? That's not different. Something's been there a long time. I think there's something there. Does she?"

Rufus tied the bow tie correctly. And Ron decided--finally.

"Thanks, buddy. I'm ready. And not just for the dance, either. But to do what no man should ever have to do. Talk about his feelings."

No, that wasn't true.

"It's humiliating, but Kim's worth it. But what if she likes this Erik guy and I show up yapping about my true feelings? And she wants Erik--not me? We're talking total flame-out! Aw, man, not to mention what it would do to our friendship."

But his father's words rang in his mind. "'One man with courage makes a majority'. 'You may delay but time will not'."

Yes. It was time. 'Way past time. "Uh, Rufus, could help with my tie again?"

Rachel almost fainted with excitement and pride. "Oh, Ron--my boy!" How handsome he looked!

Abe winked and shook his son's hand. "Mazel tov, son."

"Thanks, Mom--Dad." No doubt about it. He had lucked out. He didn't need a rocket scientist and a brain surgeon for parents. What God had given him was more than enough.

It was still daylight when Ron hopped on the scooter. Kim would still be getting ready. It would take two or three times as long as Erik's motorcycle to get to the Prom. The excitement gripped him as he gunned the motor. Soon--very soon.

Annette came to Kim's room with an air of sadness. Kim was putting up the straps of her dress and touching up her hair

"Mom, could you check my hair in back?"

Annette held the brush for a moment. "Dear, it looks fine. Your hair is lovely."

Kim smiled brightly. "Thanks, Mom. And thank you for the hairstyle. It's _spankin'_!"

"Why, Kimmie, I'm gratified. I incise and suture cerebral tissue all day. Who knew I could hair, too?" Both smiled.

"Mom, I'm so excited! Erik is really special," Kim bubbled.

Annette's face became serious. "Kimmie, I know this is hardly the time to bring up the topic, but even when it's this late--"

"--Mom--" Kim's lips became a thin line and her eyes lost their joyful luster. "--I don't want to hear it."

"But you and Ron have always been so close. I know you can't back out of going to the Prom with Erik, but after--"

"Mother--please don't."

Annette caught the hint of a crying jag in Kim's quavering voice.

Kim bowed her head, clasped her hands together, and tried to compose herself. "I got over Walter Nelson overnight. Bobby Johnson, the same. Brick Flagg and I had a couple laughs flirting with each after that stupid article in the paper. Josh and I sort of drifted apart; it took a couple weeks to get him out of my system. Senor Senior Jr.? All of twenty minutes. The roses lasted longer. But Ron--" She lifted her face and her eyes swam with tears. "I thought we had something after that stupid computer chip thing. We kidded each other. But I saw him watching me, and Monique saw me watching him. I know how shy he is. I gave him all kinds of time--all kinds of chances--all kinds of hints. I honestly thought he was going to say something after he brought me home from Cheer practice one night."

"Dear,--" her mother began.

Kim covered her ears. "_No_! All Ron did was to keep bugging me about Josh and Walter. All he does now is bring up how Bueno Nacho got ruined. I never even confided to Monique. I'm sorry I confided in you. It's been hard enough doing missions with him. I'm tired of hurting. Erik Drake isn't rebound. Erik is the real thing."

"But what about Team Possible?"

"I don't know. Last night he was so '_Poor me--we're not the same_'. I tried to reassure him that we would always be tight--that Erik didn't change anything. I'm going to try; I'm going to give it my best shot. Like Daddy says: anything is possible for a Possible."

Kim squared her shoulders and got a tissue. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I've got to put my make-up back on."

Annette left her daughter's room. She overheard Jim and Erik downstairs. She tried to put her own happy face on.

Kim appeared at the top of the stairs.

Annette had to admit. Her daughter did look like a jewel.

The Tweebs flew through on their rocket backpacks. Erik easily dodged them. Kim met her mother's gaze for just a second. "Mom, is he perfect, or what?"

Annette looked at the snapshot of Kim and Ron on the wall. She sighed. Kim's braces and Ron's 'V for victory' hand sign; not perfect, but sincere, honest--real. Oh, Kimmie--if only...

Jim took the pictures of the couple, and they left for the Prom. His smile contrasted with his wife's frown. "That young man has got it goin' on!" he said enthusiastically.

No he doesn't, thought Annette.

Ron arrived to the Middleton High parking lot. Then he saw Erik's motorbike pull up with Erik--and Kim. Her formal prom dress--her new hairstyle--she looked so beautiful. Ron could only stare. He was about call out--and he thought, what's the use?

His heart died within him.

As they got off the bike and took off their helmets, Erik tried to steal a kiss. She giggled and pushed him away.

"Aw, come on," he pleaded.

"Not yet--I want it to be special--the right time--and place."

Ron turned away in disgust. He loosened his bow tie--again. "This blows, Rufus," he muttered; "I'm outa here."

Rufus popped out of the tuxedo jacket pocket, pointed to the doorway, and jabbered. The sounds of the music drifted out

"Nope. My mind is made up."

Rufus frowned, crossed his arms, said "Hmph!" and popped back into the pocket.

As she and Erik started to go into the building, Kim heard a sound she knew in her sleep. Ron's scooter. She turned and saw him slowly put-put-ing away. Wearing his father's tux. Alone. No Amelia. His head bowed dejectedly. Had he seen her and Erik? A sharp pain like a knife pierced her heart.

**_to be continued_**


	6. Chpt 6: Lights, CameraAction!

fatherfigure1, yeah, Ron stumbles over his tongue just keeping his mouth shut. It's one of the great mysteries of life--if you try to minimize the damage you do by withdrawing, the damage just compounds--like savings account interest. I have drawn much from my own life for the portrayal of some of Ron's actions--as you say, been there, done that.

Cajunbear73, thank you. Quite the drama was what I was aiming for. In fact, it is fun to roleplay, to sit in Drakken's place and formulate new dillemmas to dump on our heroes. Ya gotta love it. The split of Team Possible? Dude, you haven't_ seen_ split yet. Can Ron regroup. What do you think?

By the way--wait until you see Kim's crash--make that crashes--in scenes not seen the movie.

maxie2008 and lovetoread17, oh my dear readers, forgive the Glacially Slow Writer. I'm bouncing between the Narnia fic, the 7 Kisses fic, the Spiderman fic, the Slim's wife fic--here a fic, there a fic, everywhere a fic, fic, old MacDonald had a fic, ee ay ee ay oh--pardon moi.

I took a page from another fanwriter, who completes the story before posting chapters. The story is essentially done. Will I release it all at once? Of course not. But I promise--no more treating my fans like they're watching "Lost"--months between episodes--at least with this fic.

Pulse-Pounding Action--Heart-Breaking Heartache--Tempermental Tweaks! This chpt has it all! I borrowed a lot from the movie So The Drama for this chapter, and added a lot for the drama. I went over it--and over it--and here it is at last.

Oh, yes--the disclaimers. The characters are from Disney. Most of the dialogue is from the movie Kim Possible: So the Drama.

Nakasumi's first name, "Toru" is my own addition. Kim's locket is shown in the movie. I have decided to incorporate it into the story--see future chpt.'s

Sensei's statement about ninjas is my own addition. Nothing to do with Exchange or Gorilla Fist.

I decided to make Ron both more competent--and more stupid--than he really is at this point in the movie

On with the show.

**_CHPT 6: LIGHTS, CAMERA--COMMAND SIGNAL, DIABLO--ACTION_**

Kim watched Ron depart with a sense of a departing opportunity. Erik's voice distracted her.

"Kim, I was just wondering. What is that locket you're wearing?"

She fingered the locket around her neck. "Oh, it's from my Nana Possible. There's a picture of her and Gramps inside, and my parents' wedding picture. I sorta wear it for--special events."

"Like going to the Prom--and getting kissed?" grinned Erik. "Girl, I gotta tell you. For acting shy, you sure do send conflicting signals."

She pushed him away playfully. "Shut up, you." Forgotten was Ron.

Ron pulled into the driveway at home. It had been a long torturous ride from school.

His parents looked up in surprise as he went into the house.

"Ron, you're home awfully early," said his mother. "Don't Proms last longer than this? I know when I was a girl..." .

She seemed to drone on. Ron tuned her out. He went to his room and changed out of the tux. When her came out, His father was still waiting, face full of concern.

"Didn't go so well, Son?" asked his father.

Ron shook his head. "Total flame-out," he said morosely. "Thanks for the tux, though. It felt badical--for a while."

"Going to Bueno Nacho?"

Ron smiled crookedly. Dad had his number--just like Kim. "Yeah. Drown my sorrows in some cheese dip."

"Feel like some company?"

"Nah. It's a downer night. I feel like being alone."

"I'll be up when you get home--if you feel like talking--or just sitting with the old man."

"Thanks, Dad. You're the best."

Ron parked his scooter in the Bueno Nacho parking lot. It was a weary ride there and a weary walk into the restaurant. He suddenly remembered. He had promised himself he would boycott the place when they discontinued Naco Night. He had promised himself the same thing when they started giving out kiddie toys like the Little Diablos. He shrugged. What did it matter? It was a sign of how far he had sunk. It was the end of his shot at happiness. Ron's only possibility of a companion who would halfway tolerate all his flaws, but still want him to make himself better had been--Kim Possible. And he had blown it.

He was at the end of himself. And he didn't know it, but his new beginning was at hand.

Ron felt like he was going to a bar. In fact, he sort of wished he was.

Ned was visibly agitated. "Welcome to Bueno Nacho. Can I take your order?" he said with a forced grin.

Lars eyed them suspiciously.

Ned blocked Lars' view with a tray. "Something's very wrong," he whispered frantically.

"Got that right," mumbled Ron. He ordered the two chimiritos, grande-sized, three nacos, and grande soda--before remembering that was the same thing he had ordered the last time he was here with--Kim.

"Ron! Snap out of it!" Ned was near a panic.

"Ned! You worthless slug!" shouted Lars. "Did you ask our favorite customer if he would like the Diablo sauce with that?"

Ned jumped, startled. "No-sir! I-did-not-sir!" Desperately, he ripped open a sauce packet and spelled a word on the tray: EVIL

Lars set the food on the tray without noticing the writing. "Gracias!" He slapped Ned on the back with a skillet-sized hand.

"--And have a muy bueno day!"

Ron did not eat. He smeared the cheese and taco sauce. He let his mind wander. Something bothered him about the Little Diablos--and it wasn't just that kiddie toys represented a demeaning of what he thought was the integrity of Bueno Nacho.

Sensei had once said: _A ninja in battle trusts his instincts as a bird trusts the wind under its wings. They lift him up and guide him, as surely as the sun opens up the flower in spring--as surely as the bird is guided in migration._

It was time to face the truth. It was not just a failure to tell her that cared for her. He was a screw-up, and it had finally topped out. Kim was frustrated. She had said so. At Big Daddy Brotherson's Club Bermuda Triangle when Drakken and Shego had made their getaway--after all the trouble Kim had gone through to get them in undercover. And at Drakken's secret mountain lair when they--make that _she_--had rescued Mr.Dr.P.

Whoa. Time out. What was this? Oh no. On top of everything else. _"Ned!"_

Ned sighed with relief. At last. Ron was getting it.

Ron stalked indignantly to the counter. "Look! No bendy straw! You took away the bendy straws!"

"You, sir, have lost it," rumbled Lars.

"I'm taking this up with your boss!" threatened Ron.

Ron dialed the pay phone outside. Now more than ever, he missed having the Ronunicator since his missions with Kim were dwindling. "Hello, Wade. I'm at Bueno Nacho and I've got comments and concerns!"

He heard Wade sipping on his usual big drink. "Want me to patch you through to their 800 number?"

"No way! I want to go right to the top! Have words with the head honcho!"

"I dunno, Ron," said Wade doubtfully. "Getting through to a CEO is not easy. The guy's private line is probably top secret. Wait--got it! You're in!"

Good old Wade. He would always rock.

"Hola, Bueno Nacho. El Presidente speaking."

With a shock Ron recognized the voice. "Drakken?"

_A ninja in battle trusts his instincts..._

Ron's mind flew. Details fell into place. The Little Diablos looked like--a sketch he had seen posted on Nakasumi's corporate jet.

At the other end of the line the voice hissed. "It's the Buffoon! Our cover is blown!"

It went on like a light. The Little Diablos--Toru Nakasumi's kidnapping--Mr.Dr.P.'s kidnapping--Drakken's takeover of Bueno Nacho--somehow it was all connected!

Ned watched the shock on Ron's face. At last! _Now _he was getting it!

Ron heard frantic pounding on the window. Ned pointed frantically to the tray: EVIL spelled out in taco sauce.

(At the moment, it was a million miles from Ron's mind what Kim would think of his realizations. But in the weeks to come, when they sorted it all out, she would be proud of him. He had left things like figuring out clues to her and Wade. But in this hour, when she was under the influence of a boyfriend, Ron rose to the challenge. His father Abe, who always believed in him, would be proud. And they all fervently hoped that Jonathan Stoppable, the cop-to-be, and Mim Possible, the spunky investigative reporter, looking down from the afterlife, would be proud)

OMG! Drakken's exposed! Move your butt, Ron-dog!

But he felt someone towering over him behind his shoulder.

Lars calmly lifted the phone from Ron's hand. "We don't want to disturb Dr. Drakken," he said, with a malicious smile. "He's a very busy man."

Ned and Rufus burst through the restaurant doors screaming. Hundreds of Little Diablos marched behind them and started to surround Ron.

"Diablos attack!" shouted Lars.

Desperately, Ron kicked them away as they tried to climb his pants. He picked up Rufus, stuffed him in the pants pocket, and ran for the scooter. Frantically he gunned the motor. It engaged! He peeled out, followed by an enraged Lars.

Ron soon outdistanced Lars, but the Diablos were still in hot pursuit. The demonic little toys were _running._

Wade had been monitoring the conversation. When he heard Drakken's voice, his eyes widened is shock. When he heard Ron's shout, he sat up suddenly and spilled his soda. When he heard Lars' voice and the call cut off, he was frantically pounding the "send" key to Kim's Kimmunicator.

Kim and Erik were dancing to "Get Your Shine On". They looked like Dance Fever. Every eye was on them. Kim was captivated. Gone was the earlier regret when she saw Ron deliberately leaving the Prom--alone. Erik matched her move for move. No one had ever been able to coordinate so well.

Suddenly the Kimmunicator beeped. Kim's eyes showed disappointment. Of all the times--. Insane thoughts came to her mind. Was Wade in league with Ron? But her sense of duty won out. She left Erik in mid-dance, went to her purse, retrieved the Kimmunicator, pushed the button, and--.

Monique gave her the eye.

"What?" asked Kim.

"Maybe you should let that go to--voicemail?"

"But--if it's important--" Kim's sense of duty wavered.

"_Girl!_ More important than--"

Erik stood looking dumbfounded. He overheard the sound of the Kimmunicator and glared blackly. He put his charm on and followed Kim.

_"Hi, Erik!"_ babbled both girls.

Erik shrugged, acting his most nonchalant. "I think Wade would understand." He took the Kimmunicator from her hand, hit the "end transmission" button, and tossed it back on the table.

Kim nodded, starry-eyed. "Yeah..." she said absently.

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her away.

The channel was open. Wade heard the conversation. Erik winked wickedly at him on the screen.

Wade stared at the monitor. "Kim! Monique! What's the deal?" Kim had never done such a thing! And Erik--. Wade was _not_ down with Erik. He pounded his desk in frustration.

Ron's thoughts flew. What to do? A zillion little toys in pursuit and a stupid scooter that he wanted to push off a cliff. (At least it would fall faster than it was travelling.) He swallowed his pride. He aimed his scooter for the Prom.

Ron burst into the school, stumbling in the balloon decorative archway. His hair was windblown. His eyes were wild. _"The Little Diablos are evil!"_

Kim gasped. It was the answer to her wish (or prayer). Ron had burst on the scene, embarrassing her, with a mission to go on.

But then she looked around. People smirked. Laughed. Pointed. She felt shame. Hurt. Embarrassment. For Ron. For herself.

He turned and pointed--and the Little Diablo horde had vanished. "Where--?"

Erik put an arm around Ron's shoulder. "Dude, are you okay?"

Ron threw the arm off. "I know that tone. 'Ron is making the whole thing up!' Well, it doesn't matter what you or anybody thinks." He smiled triumphantly. "Because my best friend Kim will believe me--right, Kim?"

Kim avoided his gaze.

"Kim?"

"Oh--right--I--totally believe you. The toys were here--."

"--And they were evil!" reiterated Ron.

"Uhh--sure--right--"

"Buckle up, it gets weirder."

"I bet," sighed Kim.

"Drakken is behind the whole thing!"

Erik doubled up and belly laughed. "The take-over-the-world-mad scientist?"

"Yes! It's all so obvious! Use the more than thirty thousand outlets worldwide to give out his evil prizes!"

Kim glanced around helplessly. Her boyfriend, who accused Ron of betraying her friendship in the worst way. Her partner, who whined and exaggerated, but had been her steady companion since pre-k. Then her brow furrowed. The old Kim appeared. "I'm going to check this out. Ron might be on to something."

_"What?"_ gasped an incredulous Erik. "His story is ridiculous!"

"_Kim!"_ said an exasperated Wade. "What's with putting me on hold?"

"Sorry, Wade," apologized Kim. This was becoming confusing. Erik and Ron were bickering.

"Kimmie's with _me_ now, Ron Dog!"

"Outa my face, Pretty Boy! Amelia got fed up with your harassment! I'm on to you!"

Kim's ears pricked up at the mention of Amelia Mirador. Head in the game, Kimmie. "Quiet, you two! What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Did Ron tell you? Drakken is the CEO of Bueno Nacho. Voiceprints confirm it."

Kim felt dizzy. Her night with Erik was spiraling away. Ron's story actually was making sense. Head in the game, girl. "Tell me about the Little Diablos, Wade."

"I scanned mine from my Little Niños meal. It's a miniature robot. Advanced circuitry beyond anything I've ever seen." He projected a rotating schematic of the toy.

Kim pondered. "I've got to ask an expert. Ron, let's go. My folk's house."

Erik looked like something between flustered and enraged. "_What?_ Now wait a minute--!"

Kim gave him a quick hug. "It's a save-the-world thing. Sorry," she whispered. Be patient. I'll make it up when I get back. You'll get that kiss. I promise."

Ron couldn't resist. He shrugged and apologized. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that, dude."

Erik scowled blackly and muttered under his breath. "We're not done with this--_Ron._"

Ron walked to his cycle almost chuckling. Without half trying, it had worked. He had gotten Kim away from Erik and the Prom. And it was honest--he hadn't lied.

But Kim didn't look like a happy camper. The delight he had seen in her eye earlier when she arrived at the Prom with Erik was gone.

"Uh--Kim?"

_"What?" _she said sharply.

"Is, uh, everything okay?"

"For sure, Ron. It's all just so bondiggetty. I spent all my babysitting money on a dress for a Prom I waited all high school to attend that I'm now leaving early from without my boyfriend because my archenemy is selling toys through the restaurant that my partner got all hyper over and wants the world to sign his petition. Yeah, Ron--It's spankin'!"

Ron cringed.

He handed her the safety helmet.

She snatched it out of his hand and jammed it over her hair. The absolutely perfect hair-do that didn't matter any more. She sat on the scooter behind him as stiff as a board.

"This is so the convenience, isn't it, Ron?" she asked resentfully.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'm just in a grande tweak."

"K.P.--I'm not feeling the love," said Ron recklessly. "Is there something you want to say?"

"Is there something you want to say to me?" demanded Kim.

"No. Guess not." And he retreated into his shell.

The slow ride over to the Possible house felt like detention. Kim glared silently at the back of Ron's head, and Ron suddenly wanted the night to be over.

Mrs.Dr.P. met them at the door. "Kimmie, where's Erik?"

And Kim's eyes stared daggers.

"Ron--?"

Ron shrugged.

The Tweebs looked up. Kim came through, followed by Ron, followed by Mom. "Hey Sis--" began one.

Kim glared.

And he trailed off, like a leaky tire. "--Sssssssss." The Tweebs knew. Don't touch this sitch with a ten foot pole.

"Daddy?"

James Timothy set down his paper. "Why, Kimmie-Cub-bub-bub--"

His daughter, hands on hips like an irate boss, eyes burning like a furnace, hair windblown. Ron just behind her, cowering like a dog on a choke chain. His wife and sons just behind them, clueless. He had never seen so strange a procession.

Kim held up her Kimmunicator. "Tell me what you think of this," she said flatly.

She replayed her conversation with Wade.

_Wade's voice: "Drakken is the CEO of Bueno Nacho. Voiceprints confirm it_

_Kim's voice: "Tell me about the Little Diablos, Wade."_

_Wade's voice:"I scanned mine from my Little Ni__ños meal. It's a miniature robot. Advanced circuitry beyond anything I've ever seen." _

Kim handed her father the Kimmunicator. "Now take a look at the diagram."

Mr.Dr.P. recognized the Little Diablo. His sons each had one. His lab assistant at work had one. He thought about getting one. But the internal diagram was as familiar to him as his face when he shaved each morning. "I do not believe it!"

"What?" everyone said.

"They're totally evil, right?" said Ron lamely

Jim Possible was on his feet. He felt violated. Indignant. As when a man finds his house burglarized. "Cybertronic metal! It's the Hephaestus Project! He used my invention to build these things!"

"Daddy?" asked Kim.

"Dad?" asked the Tweebs.

"Mr.Dr.P.?" asked Ron.

He sputtered. "That--sorry excuse for a college roommate! That--Lipsky! This is the last straw!" He spoke directly to Kim. "I remember! When you saved me from Drakken's mutant! He scanned my mind! He wanted the Hephaestus Project!"

"For an evil genius, Drakken is pretty stupid!" said Ron. "He steals a three billion dollar super secret technology and gives it away with a burrito? And yet he ditches on the bendy straws? The man does not know how to run a fast food business." He meant it as a joke, but Kim looked at him sourly, and he refrained from anything more.

And about a hundred miles west of Middleton, a blue-skinned man in a sequined suit issued two orders. "I want Middleton on line _now_! Oh, and Shego, I need you to run out and pick up something for me."

And back at the Possible house, Mrs.Dr.P. asked "Jim--what are you telling us?"

"That Drakken fellow stole my technology to make those Little Diablos!"

The Tweebs grinned like they just scored--stealing a couple cookies--or hacking into Kim's diary.

"We're playing with stolen technology!"

"Cool!"

Kim shook her fists in frustration. "The craze is off the chain!"

"Whatever that means," muttered Ron, and Kim looked at him sourly again.

Mr.Dr.P pondered. "Every kid on the planet must have one"

"Dad, you said the Hephaestus Project--it was some kind of living metal?" asked Kim.

That's how we sold it to the board of directors. The cybertronic circuitry can modify itself, repair itself. It can actually grow."

And every face was suddenly aghast.

"Don't worry," he assured them. "It can't do anything with out the command signal."

And suddenly a throbbing sound was heard in the air.

Alarmed, Kim and her father watched the Tweebs' Diablos vibrate as they sat on a tabletop. They each grabbed a boy by the shoulders and pull him away.

"Move it!"

The toys shot to the Tweebs' height. Then to Kim and Ron's height, and the table collapsed under their weight. Then to the adults' height, and glowing diodes appeared. Then to fifteen feet tall and the ceiling crumbled.

The Possibles and Ron stared at the enlarged toys

Ominously, they shuffled on their feet, and turned to face the little humans, their eyes glowing malevolently and their claws clanking.

Kim pushed her father by the shoulders. "Get Mom and the boys out!" she yelled. "We'll distract the Diablos!"

Twin sprays of green sparks like an electrical discharge emanated from the claws of one Diablo toward the retreating Possible family. Frantically, Kim shoved them out the door. "Head for the garage!" Just in time she grabbed the overhead door frame and swung her legs into the air. Almost in time. Kim smelled burning fabric as she landed. She looked down at her Prom dress. Oh, great. A scorched and blackened hemline.

Kim railed at the machine. "Do you know how much baby-sitting I had to do to pay for this dress?"

And the machine raised its claws to issue another volley.

_Ohmigod_, she thought, _Ron's still in the house!_

Kim dove under the robot and hand-sprung her way back into the house. The robot's upper body rotated on its waist and turned to face her. She darted like a streak as it unleashed various weapons, the flame thrower and the buzzsaw. She ran up its arm and over its head like a squirrel on a tree branch. She managed to maneuver the robot so it actually turned the weapons on itself--without a trace of damage. Her father was right--the living metal was capable of maintaining and repairing itself. How could she fight this thing, she thought grimly to herself.

Ron was running to and fro like a cornered rabbit, dodging the other Diablo as it flailed its claws at him. "That would be so cool if it wasn't the last thing we were ever gonna see!"

Kim hopped off the shoulders of the Diablo pursuing her and grabbed Ron around his waist, practically picking him up off his feet. "Come on!" she said frantically, "Get your butt in gear!"

The Diablo chasing Kim collided with the Diablo trying to swat Ron. The two towering machines swayed for a moment like a couple of drunken dance partners, then steadied themselves. These two targets were proving to be elusive. They must revise their tactics.

The Possible family watched hopelessly from the garage as Kim and Ron ran from the house. The housefront exploded behind them as the two lumbering creatures smashed their way through, their claws swinging like wrecking balls.

Giant robots!" wailed Tweeb Jim.

"Giant cybertronic robots!" wailed Tweeb Tim.

"Giant cybertronic robots with state of the art weapons!"

"Kimmie doesn't stand a chance!"

That was all Mr.Dr.P. needed to hear to shake him loose from his paralysis. "Boys, how many times have I told you? Anything's possible for a Possible! Jim, Tim, we need to borrow your rockets!" He slid the garage door open a couple feet. "Annette, be ready to open this door!" he directed his wife. He rolled under the door out to the driveway and furtively made his way to Ron's scooter.

Kim and Ron were running to and fro, dodging electrical bolts, buzzsaws, and streams of fire. She saw her father out of the corner of her eye, and tried to keep the Diablos from looking in his direction.

Annette Possible raised the garage door. Jim Possible wheeled the scooter into the garage. Without a word, husband and wife strapped on goggles. Annette handled the welding torch and Jim the crewscent wrench and the needle-nosed pliers.

Dr. Annette Joan Possible, M.D., PhD. neurosurgery, had never fused spinal vertebrae with such speed as she was working now. She looked over at her scrub partner and allowed herself a smile. She puckered her lips and mouthed the words _I love you._

Dr. James Timothy Possible, PhD. rocket engineering, PhD. applied physics, and PhD. astronomy, smiled back and mouthed the words _I love you too--you rock._ He noticed a gas can in the corner with a Property of MIddleton Space Center label. "Hey! This is the J-200 rocket fuel I developed! I wondered what happened to this!" He glanced sternly at the twins. "Boys?"

And the twins grinned, trying to look cute and blameless.

It was done. Operation concluded. The Tweebs' rockets were welded to the rear wheel fender of the scooter and the control wired to the handlebar. Now--would the lifesaving procedure be effective?

Kim and Ron crouched in the shrubbery, trying to hide from the rampaging machines.

"Where's that help?" whined Ron

"Wade, we need help!" shouted Kim into her Kimmunicator.

In his home, Wade cowered under his desk while a giant claw flailed at him. "Anything like a giant robot? I think I can relate!"

"Dad says they need a command signal"

"If you take out the signal, you shut down the robots--but I'm not exactly in a position to track down the signal for you!"

"It must be coming from the source of all things evil" said Ron melodramatically.

Kim raised an eyebrow. Of course it was a dangerous sitch, but Ron's reign as a drama king was getting long and tiring. "Pardon?"

Ron cut to the chase. "Bueno Nacho! I'm talking about Bueno Nacho!"

Suddenly the shrubbery in front of them was burned to the ground, and they stood exposed to the Diablos.

The garage door rolled open and Kim saw her family standing in formation, like a football team about to execute a play. _Oh, fam_, she thought_, you guys so rock!_

"Kimmie!" barked Mr.Dr.P. "Think fast!"

Kim's parents tossed two crash helmets like Frisbees toward the teenagers.

Kim and Ron each grabbed one and clapped it on their head.

Tweeb Tim punched a button on a handheld remote.

Tweeb JIm shouted "Blast off!"

Ron's refurbished scooter shot toward them like a bullet. Ron grabbed a handlebar and mounted the seat as it sped past. Kim grabbed Ron's shoulder and mounted the seat behind him. It was a slick move.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief as the two Diablos receded into the distance--then a set of wheels popped from the feet of each Diablo--like Kim's shoes on her mission suit. The two robots were gaining on the two teenagers.

Green bursts flared from the robots' claws.

_"Ron!"_ shouted Kim._ "Swerv--!"_

Kim meant to say _swerve left, _but Ron already did.

Green explosions billowed all around them, but Ron dodged and swerved, left and right, twisting and turning like a stunt rider, navigating the treacherous path. He was as agile on the scooter as Kim had been earlier on foot while confronting the Diablos. He could feel the connection through her hands on his shoulders.

Kim could feel it, too. It was as though she had only to think what direction to go, and he would obey.

She looked back over her shoulder. The Diabloes were getting closer and closer. She unconsiously cringed and leaned against Ron.

Ron jiggled the rocket control switch. "How do we get the rockets to go faster?" he yelled. They were at maximum accelleration.

Rufus popped out of Ron's pants pocket. All that racket since Ron had stopped at Bueno Nacho earlier. How was a naked mole rat supposed to get any sleep. It was like sticking his head out a car window. The wind from their speed almost blew him away. Grabbing the pants fabric, he peered ahead. They were going like a bullet. Hey! This was fun! Then he looked back--and squealed. Two giant robots were approaching. He saw Ron jar the switch and heard Ron yell about going faster. He took it in instantly.

Grimly holding on with his claws against the wind, he crawled over Ron's pants and Kim's dress to the back fender of the scooter.

"Ouch!" squeaked Kim. Her dress was thinner fabric than Ron's pants.

"Sorry!" squeaked Rufus. At last. He got to the rear fender.

Rufus was as expert a mechanic as the Tweebs. As expert with tools as Wade was with a computer. And when he didn't have a tool, he knew how hard to kick something to make it work. He kicked the rockets, and their speed doubled. Ron had to hold onto the handlebars. Kim had to hold to Ron's waist. Rufus had to hold onto the strap of Kim's purse that was trailing behind her

They approached Bueno Nacho. "Look!" he shouted above the wind. "They even changed the giant taco sign!"

The huge model of taco, lettuce, and tomato had indeed parted like a clamshell, with an antenna protruding. It looked like a satellite dish.

Kim squeezed Ron's shoulder. "That has to be where the command signal's coming from!" she shouted.

She had to admit it. Ron was right. The Diablos were evil--and Bueno Nacho was the source of things evil.

"How are we gonna take that out?" Ron shouted.

"Maybe we won't have to!" Kim shouted.

In her scooter seat behind Ron, Kim leaned back and adjusted the angle of the rockets. The scooter became _airborne._

In the restaurant, Lars was waiting for the action. Hundreds, maybe thousands of the Little Diablos were distributed in Middleton. He almost danced with glee at the havoc that must be taking place in homes all over the city. He was glad he had signed on with Bueno Nacho after his jail time. The rumor was that Drakken was recruiting some serious muscle, that something big was up. He could hardly wait for the payoff. They might make him mayor of the city--or governor of the state--or head of the local Bueno Nacho franchise.

The Stoppable kid showing up almost blew it. He got away, too. Probably going to warn the Possible chick. Ah, don't sweat it. What were a couple kids going to do?

Lars sauntered out of the restaurant, heard the sound of an approach vehical, and calmly looked in the direction. Business was slow tonight. People must be dodging Enlarged Diablos to save their lives. Lars chuckled evilly at the thought.

Strange. It looked like Stoppable's scooter approaching--with a couple Giant Diablos in hot pursuit. Holy Crap! They were going like a bat out of Hell!

Lars squealed like a girl and huddled on the ground--"Hey!"--as the scooter sailed overhead.

Astride the scooter, Kim and Ron worked in perfect coordination. With an ease and confidence he did not know he possessed, Ron shifted position and cut the throttle. Touchdown! They landed on the sign platform. He braked the scooter, letting the back wheel slide, stopping just short of the edge.

Kim hugged Ron's neck. "Spankin'!"

Lars shook his fist. "You kids! Get off that sign! That's Bueno Nacho property!"

Ron pointed. "Lookin' the wrong way, dude!"

Lars looked back--and saw the Diablos. Again he cowered. "Eeeeek!"

The first approaching Giant Diablo lifted up its claws. It would pluck those two off the sign and run them over like roadkill. But it struck the transmission tower a glancing blow with its arm. The tower toppled over, barely missing Lars.

The Diablo reached for Kim and Ron--and stopped dead. Both machines shrank--and shrank--to toy size.

They felt the flush of victory. Ron put his arm around Kim's shoulders. "_Now _you believe me, don't you? Would they believe me now at the Prom? Think Erik would believe me?"

It was the wrong thing to say. All Kim's resentment bubbled to the surface. She threw Ron's arm off her shoulder.

"K.P.?" he asked wonderingly.

Kim suddenly slapped Ron on the shoulder and started crying.

Ron was astounded. "Ow! What the hell! K.P! What's the deal?"

"You _prick_!" she wailed. "You two-timing _prick_!"

_"Wha--?"_

"If all you did was get possessive--like when I was with Josh--I could take it! But you have the nerve to bring _her_ to the treehouse! _Our_ treehouse! And then you get all possessive again when I finally have somebody who cares for _me_!"

Ron stared baffled. "_What? _What did I _do_?

"We practically grew up there--_together_! And you were in the treehouse--_our _treehouse-with _her_!"

Ron stared more baffled. "With _who_?"

"Amelia Mirador!"

_**to be continued**_

Told you. Oh, ryebread so loves soap opera--and cliffhanger endings--but it all gets better from here--doesn't it? Ah, you must tune in to see.

Promise--within the week.


	7. Chapter 7: Confrontation

Rye.bread promised his readers an update within one week. That was back a couple months ago.

A couple things happened. I lost my USB mass storage device with all my updated fanfic's on it. The doctor found some cancer cells in my prostate, and I had surgery to remove my prostate gland. The spyware infecting my laptop keeps freezing up the keyboard and closing my documents without saving the changes. Little stuff.

The good news is the cancer is all gone. God be praised. And all my thoughts and prayers go to those who must battle such afflictions long term.

BrianLeeB,CajunBear73, Shegofan, Solarstone, Mika2345, thank you for all the compliments. Feeling your love.

maxie2008--I'm your _fav author_? That's a lot to live up to. Don't worry about the rant. I dedicate this chpt. to you.

I'm not entirely happy with the continuity of the dialogue in thi chpt. The version I had on the missing USB was zen. It was perfect. I tried to reconstruct it to the best of my ability.

Booger breath: sorry I don't measure up.

It's a particularly agonizing kind of hell when a loving relationship goes belly up, and I have tried to convey that in my story. I often ask myself: is it better to have poor health and loving relationships, or good health and a messed-up personal life? Either one is a bummer--but loving friendships help one endure physical hardship.

_**CHPT. 7**_

_**CONFRONTATION**_

Kim suddenly slapped Ron on the shoulder and started crying. "You _prick_! You absolute _prick_!"

Ron stared baffled. "_What? _ What did I _do_?

"You were in the treehouse--_our _treehouse-with _her_!"

Ron stared more baffled. "With _who_?"

"Amelia Mirador! Your own private little orgy!"

Ron was stunned, and his heart fell. On top of everything else, something new to deal with. Had the Food Chain told her about Josh and Amelia coming to see him? Of course, it could just be his essential moron-ness giving himself away somehow. Yeah. There was a new nickname for him to torment himself with. Essential mo-Ron-ness. But getting back to reality--they were standing twenty feet off the ground on the Bueno Nacho sign having a quarrel. "K.P.--the Tweebs didn't spike your coffee, did they? Or maybe a whiff of your dad's rocket fuel, or the gas your mom uses to put her patients under?"

The fire in Kim's eyes flared and she stood with her hands on her hips. "Number one--the Tweebs are into practical jokes--_not _altered consciousness! Number two--Daddy is very careful with his rocket fuel! He hasn't brought any home since the Tweebs 'borrowed' that last batch! Number three--Mom is a surgeon! It's the anesthesiologist who puts the patient to sleep--which you would know if you paid attention in science class--instead of borrowing my notes! And number four--you're avoiding the question! Are you gonna deny it?"

Ron felt overwhelmed. He couldn't lie to Kim. But--was this the time to reveal Amelia's emotional abuse at Erik's hands. "No--but--Josh was there, too. He brought Amelia--"

"_Josh_ was there? What _was_ this, Ron? A little threesome? _God--sick and wrong!_" Kim felt revulsion

"It wasn't like that! Amelia and Erik--uh--hold the phone_--who_ told you?"

"Erik did."

"Yeah. Your boyfriend. The Pretty Boy who said that the idea of the Little Diablos being evil was ridiculous--who called my theory of Drakken being the brains behind the whole scheme ridiculous."

Kim glared at Ron. This was not turning out the way she thought it would--or the way she wanted to. Usually, it was as plain as day when Ron was lying to her. He found his backbone--or he might be trying to divert attention from his own failures by pointing out Erik's. And Ron brought Josh into the story. Now things were just plain confusing. How could she ever tell _what_ was the truth was.

She thought of calling Wade. He could rig up the Kimmunicator to work like a lie detector, testing Ron's voice, pulse, and all those things that a lie detector measured. But that would take time. And Ron's mention of Erik had done something else. For the first time, a crack in Kim's trust of Erik appeared. Light glimmered through. Ron might conceivably be telling the truth.

Ron, for his part, decided that the only way he could honor Amelia's trust in him was to guard her confidentiality--a little longer. And he didn't know how to do it--except by a resolute determination to be as stubborn as Kim--to not fold at the first hint of her temper

"And why did Josh and Amelia come to see you?" demanded Kim.

"I can't say," said Ron

Was it about Erik?" asked Kim

"Would it matter if it was? Why did you come to see me?"

"I thought you needed some friendly support after you got all hysterical on TV."

"And Erik dropped by--checking up on you, no doubt."

Kim bristled. "Erik doesn't own me. No one does!"

Ron was feeling reckless. "Yeah. And we're still tight. And you haven't comprised our friendship on account of Erik. And you didn't lock me in a broom closet on account of Josh."

"Why are you bringing that up? That was so last year!"

"Right. And how you act with this boyfriend has nothing to do with how you acted with the other boyfriend."

"What?"

"Yeah--Josh--Mankey--the _other_ boyfriend--remember?"

Kim wanted to slap Ron again--across the cheek, not the arm. She could not recall ever feeling so tweaked at him. And it shocked her. This was her _friend_--her mission partner.

Ron mentally kicked himself. He could see the struggle in her face. He wanted to rub it in. He wanted to force the issue with her. _Who ya gonna believe, K.P.--him or me?_ But he tightened his lips. He never saw her so hurt. And it hurt him. He couldn't do this to her.

"Ron Stoppable! You're trying to confuse me! You're trying to duck the issue!"

What if--just in case--this was an honest mistake? What if Erik was actually a good guy? What if he was who Kim wanted? Ron had kept silent about his love for Kim. He would let Kim go. He would keep silent about his suspicions of Erik. And what about Amelia? He would sort that out later. But he would not use this as an opportunity to win an argument off her sadness.

"Ron--do you have anything you want to say to me?"

In the gaze of those bejeweled eyes, Ron saw yearning, heartache, and uncertainty. I can't do it, he told himself. I can't tell her about Erik. First, she would say it was so the ulterior motive. And second--and second--

A chorus of voices urged him. _Tell her!_ Josh Mankey, Amelia Mirador, Rabbi Katz, Rufus, his father--and even the imaginary Rufus friend of his Pre-K days. Even Fearless Ferret. But the gentleman in him would not take part in dashing her hopes and dreams. If what he heard about Erik were true, he would try to be around when Kim's heart was inevitably broken. If she would have him, he would simply be there and not say "I told you so."

"No, K.P.," he said with resignation. "I have nothing to say."

Kim's tweak level topped off. "Dammit! I don't get where you're coming from! Are you down with my boyfriend or not?" She pushed on Ron's chest and he stumbled backwards.

"K.P! We're twenty feet off the ground!"

"So? If I had known last night what you were going to do after I left, I would've pushed you out of the treehouse. Hell! I would've come back with Erik and had him climb up with me. You and your freaking weight limit! And Josh and Amelia. One big par-tay! Then we all could've jumped up and down and crashed it to the ground. Your stupid treehouse! I so want to forget I was ever there!"

Kim glared at Ron and Ron stared with tormented gaze back at Kim.

The Kimmunicator beeped and they both jumped, startled. "Yes, Wade!" snapped Kim. "What the hell is it? Could it wait?"

Wade looked hurt. "Sorry, Kim. It's been so long since your last transmission, I started to wonder if you and Ron were okay."

Fresh guilt was added to the emotional tension between Kim and Ron. Kim apologized. "Sorry, Wade. We're--dealing with--stuff. You're okay?"

The scene on the viewscreen shifted as Wade rearranged the furniture in his room. "Yeah. The Diablo has shut down and shrunk down. Thanks to you.

Kim shrugged. "We took out the command signal." She was starting to appreciate this interruption in the conflict between her and Ron.

Ron hedged. "Which sounds a lot like a good thing, right?" He wanted the uncomfortable confrontation to end as much as Kim did.

For a long moment they just stared at each other again.

"Ron--what are we doing?"

"We're havin' a fight, Kim. Friends do that."

Kim shook her head. "Not like this. This is like a break-up."

Ron shrugged. "It's like he-said-she-said. We're just tryin' to work past the details."

Kim brushed her hair back. "Could we work past--this whole issue?"

Ron took a deep breath. Kim could see the tension draining from. "That would be bondiggetty. I could dig that," he said.

Kim nodded. "I agree. That would be spankin'."

The look in their eyes softened. They both sighed--and little smiles even flickered on both their faces. Hope kindled in both hearts. This could be fixed. But it was not to be.

Wade interrupted. "That's weird. Just got a hit on the site."

Kim had to fight the urge to violently fling the Kimmunicator from their perch high on the sign to the ground. "Tell me, Wade," she said wearily.

"It's a streaming video--from Dr. Drakken." And he played the message.

"Congratulations, Miss Possible. You've already discovered how to foil my evil scheme. In record time, I might add. It is most unfortunate, however, that this time you will not be able to stop me. You will surrender."

Kim smirked. "As if." She suddenly felt empowered. Confident. Reenergized. She_ had_ foiled his scheme. She and Ron were settling their issues. She felt good about her ability--their friendship. She_ could_ do anything.

In the background, Ron chimed in. "As _if_ if."

It was ridiculous. But it was typical Ron-ness. Kim folded her arms. Drakken would not play her.

Drakken read her body language. _She thinks she's All That. But I've got something up my sleeve. _"Shego popped by your school dance and met the nicest boy. Well, I don't have to tell you how nice he is--and cute!"

The webcam shifted to show Shego restraining--Erik! "Kim!" His eyes were big with fear. "What's going on?"

Kim's heart plummeted. "Erik!"

The webcam returned to Drakken's leering face. "I congratulate your Sidekick, Miss Possible. He actually figured something out by himself--that I was using Bueno Nacho as a front for my activities. And now to the issue at hand. The choice is yours, Kimberly Ann! If you care about your dear Erik's safety, surrender is your only option--for both of you!"

"I'm going with you," Ron said simply.

Kim was flabbergasted. _"What?"_

"I'm still your partner. I figured out that this was Drakken's scheme. I figured out that the Diablos were evil. I interrupted your date with your boyfriend. I'll see this through to the end. And after that, if you want Erik as your mission partner, Rufus and I will hang up the blaster briefs. What the heck. He even told me that naked mole rats are cool. Maybe he can find one at the Smarty Mart Housepet section"

"Oh, fine!" she huffed, exasperated. But there was a sense of a deep widening rift, and Kim tried one final time. "Ron," she said quietly, "It's just us. No Food Chain, no Cheer Squad, no families. No Josh Mankey. No Zita Flores. No Erik, no Yoriko. Is there something you want to tell me, Ron? Anything? Anything at all?"

Kim's heart hung on the brink, waiting for Ron to rescue it from falling. _Say it, Ron. You care for me. You need me in your life. You want me. Say something, Ron. Say anything. Please._

Ron stared at his feet. Both hands clenched into fists. "No, Kim," he said in a flat monotone. "Nothing that can't wait."

Kim bowed her head. Her chin quivered and she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She brushed a tear from her cheek. Her eyes ached. Her throat burned. Her chest was tight. How could emotions hurt so much? She had played her last hand. She had bet all she had--and lost. She had heard it from his own lips. What more did she need?

Ron saw all this and said nothing. It was better this way. What the hell good was he? He had suffered bruises, lacerations, cracked ribs, minor concussions, and numerous other wounds on his missions with Kim. But this was a special pain. He felt like a great hand was squeezing his chest.

Kim was fishing in her purse for a tissue. Ron caught on and started searching his cargo pants pockets for a kerchief. Rufus finally pulled one out of a random pocket. It was too late. She had found a couple and was blowing her nose and dabbing her eyes. And Ron stood there. Useless. With this limp used (ew) nasty snotrag in his hand. Looking and feeling just like usual. Frickin' moron, he told himself.

She looked so perfect. Even blowing her nose. So genteel and ladylike. Ron would've sounded like a foghorn. Probably would've belched and farted at the same time.

Kim sniffed, cleared her throat, and shook her hair. She put her helmet on. She hiked up her skirt hem higher and threw her leg over the scooter seat. She kick-started the scooter and revved the motor. She glanced back at Ron. "Well," she said curtly, "Are you coming? I have a boyfriend to rescue."

Ron put his own helmet on and buckled it. He mounted the scooter seat behind Kim and started to grasp her shoulders, as was traditional. Then he thought better and grasped firmly the saddle railing.

Kim flinched at the touch of his hands. And then had to bite her lip to keep from crying again. What she wouldn't have given even earlier tonight to have Ron seated behind her and put his arms around her. She blinked back the tears. Even now. To just fly into the starry sky astride a rocket, just the two of them, and never come back to earth. Even now--.

Kim gunned the motor and fired up the rockets. Like a stunt rider, she launched the scooter off the Bueno Nacho sign into empty air. As skillfully as Ron had ascended to the top of the sign, Kim retro-rocketed to the ground. A perfect two point landing. One wheel touched down, then the other wheel. The bike hardly wobbled as it sped away from the Bueno Nacho. Both Kim and Ron stared straight at the road and did not speak.

_**to be continued**_


	8. Chapter 8: The Last Ride

Miguel Dubón: I have decided to stretch the tension still more.

Flame Swordsman, maxie2008, anonymous reader, Joe Stoppinghem, Solarstone, thank you for the reviews.

Ran Hakubi and bthecatslayer: I drew upon my teen and adult angst for the portrayal of heartache. Yeah, life hurts sometimes.

Rye.bread decided to expand on the theme of Kim Possible: So the Drama--because he loves the drama.

Things like Kim getting unhinged with Wade--and Mrs.Dr.P getting unhinged with Mr.Dr.P.--and Dr. Director entering the picture. (After all, with the world's safety at stake, wouldn't the world's police and military take an active interest in taking Drakken down?)

You will find a reference to Mr.Dr.P.'s father in the story. This is meant to allude to Indiana Jones. As Rye.bread has stated in his profile, he is fascinated by the plotline suggested by MinnesotaMutt at DeviantArt. How it plays out will be different than G-Go's take on the subject--as you will see in a future fic.

In his review, whitem has mentioned that Rye.bread should use quotation marks more often when the characters speak to themselves. Rye.bread believes this confusion is the result of a practice of his, and he regrets starting it. He will explain.

When a character is thinking to themselves, the words are italicized--without quotation marks. And when a character is saying something with great emphasis, the words are in italics--_with_ quotations (just like that). Looking back on it, I can see how that would be a source of confusion. I beg the readers' pardon, and hope this clears up some confusion.

I expand upon a scene from K.P.StD. And of course, I like the drama. In fact, I obsess on it.

Characters belong to Disney. Charge of The Light Brigade is written Alfred Lord Tennyson--because I like classical literature.

_**CHPT. 8**_

_**THE LAST RIDE**_

Kim and Ron rode on in stolid silence. Until Ron thought he recognized the houses.

Kim said nothing.

Ron was puzzled. The surroundings looked familiar. "K.P.--we're in--your neighborhood?"

"What did you think, Ron?" said Kim tersely. "That I'm going to wear my Prom dress on a mission?" She pulled into the driveway of the Possible family house, braked to a stop, and kicked the kickstand down. "I came here for my mission suit!" She turned a reproachful eye on Ron. "Maybe you should think of changing, too--you still have some changes of clothes here--from the last time you asked me to do your laundry!"

The Kimmunicator beeped. Wade appeared, looking haggard. It was turning into a long night.

"Kim, you're getting hits from private homes and businesses all over Middleton. There's lots of damage. And Bueno Nachos all over the country are calling. They're wondering if their taco signs are going to morph into giant antennas."

Kim's shoulders slumped. "Wade--I so can't get on a flying scooter and check every fast-food outlet coast to coast."

Ron spoke up hesitantly from behind her. "Hey--they must have heard about the Little Diablos in Middleton and are worried about it happening to them."

Kim looked resentfully over her shoulder. "Guess what, Ron? I could so figure this out. I _do_ have a slightly higher grade-point-average than you."

Ron cowered under the withering barrage of scornful looks and tone of voice. He wondered if maybe the silence wasn't better.

Kim stalked into the house and ran up the stairs to her room, two steps at a time

Mr.Dr.P. and the Tweebs looked up at the sound of her entrance. They were picking up the wreckage of the earlier battle with the two Enlarged Diablos; splintered furniture and pieces of plaster.

Mrs.Dr.P. came from the kitchen with a tray of food. "Snacks for my clean-up crew! And the special televised bulletin is saying that all the machines have shrunk to normal. Kimmie and Ron should be back in a few--." She watched Kim fly like up the stairs like an Olympic sprinter.

"Kimmie?"

"Sis?"

"Kimmie-cub?"

Kim turned around at the top of the stairs and addressed her family bitterly. "In case anyone wonders, Drakken has kidnapped another loved one of mine."

They all looked around at each other wonderingly. "Kimmie-cub--we're all here--even Ron--." Mr.Dr.P. started to say.

"She means Erik," interjected Ron. "Drakken has Erik and he wants her surrender."

"And as usual, I've got to put aside my personal feelings and save one more victim. Well, this time, I'm _not_ thinking of everyone else first! It's _my_ boyfriend that needs saving. Let the rest of the world wait a bit!" And she disappeared into her bedroom.

Mrs.Dr.P. motioned to Ron. "Come with me. Into the kitchen. We need to talk."

Ron followed his best friend's mother, whom he regarded with as much respect as his own.

Annette Possible confronted Ron. "Ron--have you told her yet?"

Ron hedged. "Told who?"

"My daughter."

"Dunno whatcha mean. Told her what?"

"You know absolutely what I mean. Your feelings for her. That you're head-over-heels hopelessly in love with her."

Ron shook his head. Busted. "In case you hadn't noticed, Mrs.Dr.P, Kim is kinda into Erik right now."

"Erik is only the latest of a series of crushes that go back to Walter Nelson. And Kimmie has never looked to any of them for help on missions. That privilege has always been yours."

"Yeah, well, I went and screwed that up, didn't I?"

"Ron--don't you see? Your screw-ups don't matter. She endures them. You endure her tweaks. Things always seem to work out. You two have a chemistry--a bond. She makes up your lack. And you make up her lack."

"Forgive me, Mrs.Dr.P. I hope you'll understand if I don't do my usual booyah and Maddog Mascot cheer. I don't feel like the whole positive self-image thing."

In her room, Kim slipped the shoes off her feet--the blue leather dress shoes she bought to go with her Prom dress. Hell--they were already scuffed. She was so jazzed to find the shoes after buying the dress. She even had extra money in the account to pay for them. It was almost like a sign. She slipped the dress off over her head--the dress Erik liked. She hung it up in the closet. Next to it was the black dress--the Moodulator dress--and the dress she had worn to the wedding reception with Ron.

(Kim had danced with Ron at that reception. A slow dance. There were several inches of space between them to begin with. But then she had leaned close--and laid her head on his shoulder. His arm above her waist, his hand in the small of her back. But as she leaned closer, his arms stole down around her waist and had drawn her in tighter. Before the disaster her and Ron's friendship had become this past week, that dance had meant more to her than the Moodulator kiss--because she wasn't under the influence of a mind-altering electronic chip--it was all her.)

The matching purse. It was a cute little clutch--just big enough for her wallet and Kimminicator. Heck. Should have left her Kimmumicator at home--for all the trouble that was. But then she would have been in blissful ignorance at the dance while the Diablos were running amok in Middleton. She would have come home to a burnt-out ruin. And would her family even be alive--she didn't want to think about it.

She was doing all this for Erik. She wore the dress long enough for one dance with Erik. Not even a slow dance. Was it worth it? She began to question her feelings for him. At the moment she hated all men--and that was Ron's fault. Well--maybe not all men. She would always love her Dad--and even the Tweebs. But Ron--_Ron! _she screamed in her head. _Why didn't you say something?_

Downstairs, Ron's head snapped up like a mousetrap going off. Freaky weird. He could have sworn he heard Kim's voice screaming his name.

Upstairs, Kim closed her closet door. Goodbye prom dress.

Ron shook his head and tried to follow what Mrs.Dr.P. was saying.

"Ron--we've known each other long enough--you're as much a friend to me as any adult. I wish you would call me Annette."

And with her permission to assume a new level of friendship, Ron also reached a new level of candor. "The truth is, Mrs.Dr.P.--Annette--_**I'm a f-kin' jerk screw-up!**_"

"_Ron!"_ said Annette Possible harshly. "I _forbid_ you to speak that way about yourself! I should take you across my knee now! You don't know how good a man you really are!"

Ron glared at her. The full measure of his self-bitterness was bubbling to the surface. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. But you still don't get it. I'm a screw-up because I screw up. It's how I'm wired. Look. It's like this. If Erik just never was--if tomorrow everything started out brand new between Kim and me--if she was never tweaked before--I would still blow it."

Mrs.Dr.P. wanted to cover her ears. She wanted to muffle Ron's mouth with her hand. What had happened to the carefree boy she had always known?

Ron clenched his fists. His face turned red. "Kim could write a book about how to love her--her likes, her dislikes--her favorite foods, movies, places to go--she could feed me my lines while we're together--when to kiss her, when to hold her hand, what to say to her to make her feel like she's my goddess--which she is--she could have you guys standing around with the big posters that the people on TV read off of--there could be signs up, like 'Don't belch' and 'Pay for the meal' and 'Hold the door open for her' and I would _still_ _mess up_! How do I know? _Because I've done it all my damfool life!_"

Tears trickled down Annette's cheeks. "Ron Stoppable--what happened to you in your lifetime? You and Kim have been together since Pre-K. You two have practically the same upbringing. You feel like a son to me. Who did this to you, that you feel so horrible about yourself? Why is Kim so self-confident, and you so--self-defeating?"

"Just being honest with myself, Mrs.Dr.P. Facing up to the truth."

"If you feel this way--why are you going with her?"

"Because I gave my word. I'm still her partner, and I told her I would see this through with her to the end. She wants Pretty Boy--so I'm going to see she gets him. And after that--whatever."

"Ron--I'll say it until I die of old age. It's you that Kim is yearning for."

"I think you're completely wrong, Mrs. Doc--but you got a good heart. And I'm glad you're in my corner."

Annette did not say it, but she had seen enough human behavior in her career as a physician and lifetime to know despair when she saw it. Patients who were depressed over some mental or physical condition would suddenly become focused when they saw a way to end their suffering--usually through ending their life. It was Ron's intent to serve his Kim and show his love for her by accompanying her on this dangerous errand--so she could have the man he thought she wanted--even if it might shatter him completely--even if it might mean the end of his life, both emotionally and physically. And nothing anyone could say would divert him from his chosen path.

Upstairs, the Kimmunicator beeped.

Kim pounded the button. _"Dammit, Wade! What now?" _And immediately the guilt sliced as sharp as a paper cut. She had never chewed out her tech man so badly.

Wade's wounded face appeared. "What happened, Kim? Don't I 'rock' any more?"

"I'm sorry Wade--but you haven't had to deal with Diablos wrecking you home--and endangering your fam!" _For God's sake, girl! He's just thirteen!_

"I beg to differ, Kim. That's exactly what I've dealt with tonight. Just like you. Just like Ron." Wade looked like he was grieving a friend's death. "But that's not why I called. It's like every Bueno Nacho in the world is sending requests for help. Assistant managers are calling in. They're aware of the trouble we've had in Middleton--but they're saying that Corporate World Headquarters has sent strict orders to remain open and discount all menu items by fifty percent--and offering _two _Little Diablos with every meal. And Headquarters aren't answering the call-backs. Drakken has pulled the stops out, Kim."

The red light went off on the Kimmunicator screen. They both knew what that meant. A high priority call from--

"Kim--it's Dr. Director."

The director of the worldwide law enforcement agency, Global Justice. She had tried to persuade Kim to join only a year ago. "Miss Possible--Kim--I've received reports from Middleton and the immediate surrounding area. I heard about the damage on your family's home--and the way you and Mr. Stoppable dealt with the problem. And I want to say, well done. But my agents advise me that we can expect incidents like that at each of the more than thirty-thousand outlets worldwide."

Thirty-thousand outlets. For a moment, Betty Director sounded like Ron--or a commercial advertisement. Ron would so love it. He looked and sounded so silly at the Prom--was that only an hour ago? In that hour, her family had nearly been killed, and her world had come apart. And now the entire actual world was under an ominous shadow.

"My call concerns this. In the past, we've solicited your membership and you've declined the offer. We understand. Many opt to be independents. And I'm well aware the strain you must be under, both as a family member and a crime fighter. But tonight I want to extend a new offer. I'm placing the resources of my organization at your disposal. Say the word, and we can have every foot of Bueno Nacho headquarters crawling with operatives."

Kim glanced at herself in a mirror. Her eyes and nose were red. Her hair was a mess. She looked like a wreck. If she were the head of a police force, the last person she would trust would be someone who looked like that. "Thanks for your offer, Dr. Director, but Dr. Drakken has a hostage. My boyfriend. Can you insure his safety?"

"I'll be candid. We will take every precaution. But with the resistance we expect to encounter, we'll be forced to mount an operation of such magnitude that we can't guarantee the survival of any one particular person. In any hostage rescue, there's a risk of a certain number of hostages dying. We deem it an acceptable risk. Otherwise, terrorists would always have the upper hand. And when there's only one hostage--well, you understand."

"I do. And I thank you for your offer, Dr. Director--but I've got to pass it up."

"We understand your declining our offer, Kim. But if you and Ron fail, we'll be forced proceed with our operation."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll live with that."

"Call us if you need us. We'll be standing by. Director out."

Will Du was at Betty Director's side, immediately offering his opinion. "Dr. Director--she's gonna crack. You can see the strain she's under. Our profilers have analyzing it for the past month. She's been seen in public with this kid--who has no background record."

Are you saying he's clean?"

I'm saying he doesn't exist! No birth certificate--no driver's license--no social security number! It's all very suspicious! I think we should detain him for questioning!

"That matter is out of our hands, Agent Du. As you hear, he's being detained--by the enemy."

"And that's why I'm advising a mission. I can handpick our best. We'll be in there, have the kid out of there, and every last one of that blue-skinned psycho's outfit can be dealt with."

"Including Shego? We have her brother Hego's official recommendation. Avoid confrontation with her at all costs. Her knowledge of martial arts, combined with her 'power', makes her as deadly as a platoon of snipers and saboteurs. The only person who has ever--and I mean _ever_--succeeded in taking her down has been Miss Possible."

"I know," said Will Du sullenly.

"And that's why, for now, we play the waiting game. My advisors have given me their analysis. If we prevail on the governments to shut down these--restaurants, the parent corporation can flex its legal and economic clout. It will be pandemonium--tantamount to a world recession. And the economic climate of our society is such that governments value their free-trade agreements more than the safety of their citizens. It's a hell of a thing when a fast food corporation has more leverage on the world economy than the auto makers or the oil companies. And if the governments attempt to confiscate these damnable little toys, a general panic will ensue. Beside which, it's estimated that any such attempt would not be comprehensive enough to gather up more than a fraction of the articles."

Dr. Director readied her red phone. It was a hot line to the world's heads of state. She had to admire Andrew Lipsky, a.k.a Dr. Drakken. He had pulled it off--promulgated a scheme to take over the world that might actually work--right under her very nose--on her watch. She watched the spy satellite video feed of the Diablos at work in Middleton. She tried to envision the combined armies, navies, and air forces of the world against the might of those robots. It wasn't pretty.

"Agent Du--ladies and gentlemen--the fact is this--Dr.Drakken has this world by the short hairs. And the only hope, short of fighting these creatures after their activation, is that young lady in Middleton, Colorado. So we wait--and watch. And God help us all."

In her room, Kim stared at the mission suit on her bed. "So Drakken wants to play for high stakes. Fine. So can I." She cleared the dress out of the way in her closet and placed her palm on the scanner on the back wall. A panel slid open, revealing a blue-and-white body suit. Deep calming breath. Her hands were steady as she took the suit off its hanger and slipped it on.

"Kim--the battle suit is still experimental!" Wade warned. The light on his terminal blinked, indicating the compartment had been opened.

"It's about to get a road test," said Kim grimly.

"No, really. You should have it checked out. Some of the features aren't even operational--like stealth mode. And I don't even have Ron's battle suit built yet."

"Ron will be fine," said Kim with a twinge of guilt. It's not like he really need's one. I usually do most of the fighting." Another twinge. _What if I told Wade my new partner would be Erik--and __**he **__might need a battle suit? _she asked herself. "How far is Bueno Nacho Headquarters?" she asked Wade.

"About a hundred miles west of here," Wade answered.

"Show me the route." And a marked map popped up in the Kimmunicator screen.

Kim was just a pace from the head of the stairs. And suddenly had to run to the bathroom. She heaved her guts into the toilet. Bad case of nerves--or reluctance--or just tired of all the bullsh-t, she told herself. _Ya think? _said her Other Self. _Your best friend is going with you to rescue your boyfriend--and you're gonna replace your best friend __**with**__ your boyfriend? Sick and wrong, if you ask me!_

"I'm not asking," mumbled Kim to her Other Self, wiping her mouth.

"K.P.?" Ron heard her vomit and was coming up the stairs. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said tersely

"You sure?"

"I said I'm _fine_! Let's go!"

He went up the stairs as she came down. They almost bumped into each other. And Ron caught a sight of--Kim in her battle suit.

It was form-fitting--quite unlike the mission suit--the vivid blue and white color scheme--the red hair unbound. Ron's jaw dropped--his eyes grew large. He was spellbound.

He backed down the stairs, a step at a time, never taking his eyes from her.

Kim stared at the absurd behavior. _He lied to me. He does care for me_, she said to herself. _Well--it he can't step up, I'm so not going to lead him by the hand. To hell with him. Life is too busy for me to have a boyfriend I have to baby-sit._

Annette saw. The Tweebs saw. Anyone with eyes could see. Ron was a worshipper and Kim was his goddess.

"You're dressed," Kim said brusquely to Ron. "Good. Usually it takes you twice as long as me to change into a mission suit."

Ron ignored the insult. "Is--is this the new battle suit?"

Kim nodded curtly.

Mrs.Dr.P hugged each of them and bestowed a kiss on each forehead. "Take care of each other."

Kim rolled her eyes. Her mother--still trying to fix them up with each other.

"One last thing, Ron," whispered Annette in his ear. "If you love Kim--if you value the friendship we have--bring back my daughter to me."

Ron stared hard at her, and slowly nodded.

That was enough for Annette. Ron had given his word--in his way. When he was life-and-death about something, he dropped his usual loud foolish behavior. The simple quiet nod was better than another person screaming promises at the top of their lungs on a stack of Bibles.

"So long, sis."

"So long, Ron."

"Kick Drakken's--."

"--Butt." The Tweebs were unusually somber, as though they sensed the seriousness of the sitch. Mrs.Dr.P. suddenly wondered. How much of Ron's self-loathing session had they heard?

Kim donned the scooter crash helmet as a knight arrayed for battle. Ron did likewise as a faithful squire. She mounted the scooter. He followed her movement for movement.

Annette watched her daughter and the boy she loved as a son ride off on the scooter. She felt a lump in her throat. Would she see them again?

Mr.Dr.P. was behind her. "Annette--I overheard. I'm sorry, but it's wrong of you to encourage that boy. Kimmie-cub is growing up. She almost has Ron out of her system."

She turned around, disbelief in her eyes and voice. "Excuse me, Jim?" She was flabbergasted by what she had just heard.

The Tweebs excused themselves and ran back to pick up the wreckage. Mom was about to have a major tweak.

Mr.Dr.P tried to explain. "Well--I mean--of course I love Ron like a son, but--well--honestly--could you see her with him--for the rest of their lives? He's such a liability. Isn't Erik better for her than Ron? And with him not taking up so much of her time and energy--and attention, Kimmie could buckle down and get to some serious academics--instead of these--ahem--." He cleared his throat. "--'Missions'."

Mrs.Dr.P was incredulous. "Jim--are you listening to yourself? MIssions are Kimmie's food and drink. It's what she lives for. What about what you always tell her? 'Anything is possible for a Possible'. It's right that we've encouraged our daughter! But that isn't Kim's greatest asset! And her family name isn't either! Ron is!"

"But what can she _do_ with all that motivation--all that talent--and not have any training--unless you consider all the Kung-fu, cheerleading, and babysitting lessons as training!"

"She can save lives--just as she's always done--just as your parents did--just as I'm doing."

"But she's not reaching her full potential! Sure, she's rescuing people from all sorts of natural and manmade disasters. Look--you mention my parents--and yourself. Dad had his doctorate in archaeology. Mom had her commando training. You have your medical degree. What does Kimmie have, unless she continues on to higher education? But how can she begin to apply herself if she's always chasing Drakken or one of these nut cases to every corner of the globe? It's reckless, irresponsible, and dangerous! I've asked her and her Nana has asked her. When will she give up missions? And her involvement with young Erik Drake might be just the thing to shake her loose. Sure, we'll always need rescue workers. But we have people like Ron for that. Kimmie should devote herself to some higher good."

Mrs. Annette Possible, M.D., with a PhD. in neurosurgery, saw sparks before her. She was exponentially tweaked--to the tenth power. And it took a moment to compose her thoughts so she wouldn't scorch her husband as badly as Kim sometimes scorched Ron--or Jim's mother Emily scorched Indy--according to the stories. "Jim," she began slowly, "Do you remember last Christmas? Ron went globe-hopping. He piloted a sub-orbital vehicle--by himself. He took on Dr. Drakken and Shego--by himself. All for Kim--so she could spend the most special night of the year with her family."

"Well--yes, actually, I remember it very well."

"Think back--and try to remember the insane things you did for my sake. Remember the stories of the insane things your father did for your mother. Ask yourself if I fell in love with your ability to write a doctorial thesis. And then in your own mind, measure Ron Stoppable against Drew Lipsky. Ask yourself if Ron's lack of intellectual capacity has caused the level of his devotion to our daughter to suffer. Or ask yourself if Drew Lipsky's intellectual capacity has made up for his lack of any recognizable moral standard. Has he taken all his scientific ability and training and applied it to a higher good?"

""Well--when you put it that way--"

"Jim--I don't want to sound like a shrew--but when you and your friends were having your fun tormenting Drew in college, did it occur to you that he would take it out on you and your family someday?"

"It seemed like things were getting friendly last Christmas. Why, we even sang carols together--over a cup of Cocoa-moo!"

Annette glared at her husband. "Did you think the truce would last? I haven't forgotten Drakken's own words. He promised to 'open a bag of freak on you all'. Not just you. Not just our daughter. He threatened reprisal on our entire family. On me. On our sons. Jim! That sociopath kidnapped you and tried to feed you to some multi-tentacled lifeform! He subjected you to an untested machine that reads neural impulses and synapses. You're indignant over the theft of your intellectual property! Can't you see _my_ concerns--both as a neurosurgeon and your wife? Your physical well-being? The possible long-term effects on your nervous system? And look where we are tonight! Our house is in ruins! Every house that had one of these damnable little toys is in ruins! And he could do this on a worldwide scale! We're all in his crosshairs--a man who has no impulse control--and the only thing that keeps us safe at night is our daughter and her best friend. How do you think that makes me feel?"

Mr.Dr.P. was silent in his shame.

I'm going upstairs, Jim. I'm going to pray--for Kim and Ron's victory--and safety. Maybe you should do the same."

"Annette--you know I'm an agnostic. I've hardly been in church since Kimmie's confirmation."

"Then it's high time you learned. Practice makes perfect. I started when I was a child--and like a lot of people do, I got out of the habit as a teenager. I started again when I was a med student--when I began seeing medically hopeless cases

Annette Possible retreated to Kim's room. There was Kim's Prom dress. On the hanger. Typical of her daughter. Neat and orderly. Even before a life-and-death mission. There was the Prom purse--and the Prom shoes.

She took the dress from the hanger and held it up by the straps. How tall Kim had become--even since starting missions a couple years ago. Still so slender. Annette could never hope to wear such a dress. Bearing three children had left its mark on her figure. Even with all the rigorous exercise and attention to nutrition she put herself through. The mother could keep up with the daughter on the occasional mission--but look like the daughter? Those days were gone.

Oh, dear. The hem was scorched-- from the Diablo's flame thrower earlier that night. Kim's agility had saved her life in that moment. The dress was stained--and wrinkled. The soft silky fabric wasn't meant for the wear-and-tear that Kim routinely subjected herself--and her garments--to.

Kim had saved and scrimped for months. Annette had even slipped the last few dollars into Kim's account

Erik had seen Kim in the dress and had complimented her appearance in it at the mall. That was what convinced Kim to buy the dress. But when she tried it on at home, Annette couldn't help but notice two reactions. The first was Kim's father. The frown lines on his face--"Annette!" he whispered--"Look at the _neckline_--so_ low-cut_! I can practically see--_cleavage_!" The second reaction was Ron's. He didn't say a word. He only followed her with his eyes--torment and tenderness in the same gaze

Was the dress ruined? As thought Kim would even wear it again? Was it wishful thinking? She hugged the dress. A trace of Kim's perfume lingered on the fabric

This was Kim and Ron's ordeal. This was the test of their character. It would make or break them.

Kim kicked the rockets into high gear once they were outside the urban area and in open country.

Ron could not remember having such a bad feeling before a mission. Nervous. Like something very bad would go down. He wished they would pull over so he could puke. But he couldn't do that in front of Kim. So he made stupid conversation. "Hey, K.P.!" he yelled over the wind as they traveled at a hundred-plus miles an hour. "Remember that poem we read in English Literature Class? Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennis-one--or something like that. Boldly they rode and well/ Into the jaws of Death/ Into the mouth of Hell / Rode the six hundred. It's not like we're six-hundred--just a couple--." (A _couple_? Heck, _that _was a slip of the tongue.)

It was some long boring thing about soldiers riding to their death. Impossible odds. Mr. Barkin really got off on stuff like that. Soldiers facing the enemy--fighting to the last man. They knew they were doomed, but they went ahead anyway.

The only sign Kim had heard him was her turning her head back a little bit. Like you could take your eyes off the road when you were riding like a bat out of hell on some souped-up machine. "Alfred Lord Tennyson, Ron!" she shouted. "The man's name was Tennyson! What are you saying? You're getting cold feet?"

"What?" bawled Ron.

"I _said,_" bawled Kim, "Are you getting _cold feet_?"

"Old seat? Nah! The scooter seat is brand new!" bawled Ron.

Dammit, Ron. "Are you getting _**cold feet**_?" growled Kim. "Ya know--_cowardice_?"

Oops. Cringe. "No, K.P.! I'm with ya! But I'd think I'd feel better about this if I had a super suit too! I'm just saying--!"

Kim rolled her eyes and faced the road. "You wanted to come with me," she muttered to herself, "It's too late to back out now." And she cranked up the speed.

Bueno Nacho World Headquarters looked like it was ready for D-Day. Henchmen and synthodrones stationed outside. Ninjas stationed inside. Every man there had felt the fury of a Kim Possible kung-fu assault. Bruised jaws. Cracked ribs. Concussions. A debt was owed. Big. And tonight was payback.

And the big Sumo Ninja waited. The little Cheerleader who had backflipped over him like it was Homecoming. The little Sidekick who had given him the wedgie. They would both be a couple grease spots on the floor when he was done with them.

The control room looked like it was ready for a space shuttle launch. Shego and the henchmen were monitoring the control panels, flipping switches, paying strict attention to the viewscreens.

"Report, McGee," snapped Drakken. He was in his captain's chair, dressed in the sequined leisure suit.

"Stores are operational, sir. Diablos are operational. Main antenna is operational. The command signal will be broadcast at midnight, Eastern Standard Time."

"Very good!" Drakken lifted up a telephone by his armrest. "Report, Stevens," he snapped again.

"Lars called from the Middleton Bueno Nacho store, sir. He overheard the conversation between Miss Possible and--the Sidekick. They both sounded--

"Spit it out, Stevens!"

"Stressed--angry--royally pissed--."

"That will do, Stevens. Have the managers of the other Bueno Nacho stores contacted the Kimpossible-dot-com website?"

"Yessir, as per your orders. My team has been making calls to every store in the continental United States and Canada. We're working our way through the European stores, East Asian stores, and the rest of the North American stores--about twenty thousand by now. We're instructing the managers to contact Kim Possible. Her website has been receiving requests for help by the hundreds--maybe thousands."

"Excellent, Stevens! Carry on! Over and out! And Shego," he asked, in a sly tone of voice, "_Your _report, if you please."

"The Boyfriend is here--outasight--awaiting your orders," said Shego.

Drakken chuckled to himself. He felt like a kid on Christmas. He was practically dancing. Little Miss All-That must be climbing the walls by now. "Shego! Call the commissary! A mug of Coco-Moo for everyone! Call payroll! Double-pay for all my henchmen--wait! Make that hench-people! I'm making this gender-inclusive! Plus a free bottle of my 'Rinse, Lather, and Obey' Shampoo with Conditioner! I feel like Scrooge on Christmas morning!"

Shego watched the dot on the screen. "She's coming," she said simply

Drakken smiled fiendishly. "Of course she is."

"Dr.D? Are you sure we haven't bitten off just a teensy bit more than we chew?"

"Why Shego, you're worried."

"No, Dr. D.," Shego said dangerously, "I'm _not_!"

"Fear not, my dear Shego. Kimberly Ann is already trapped--even if she doesn't know it. I am merely rattling the bars of her cage. It will be all the more amusing when she finally awakens to her plight"

Shego prided herself on her nerves of steel. She wasn't afraid to take risks. She loved to belittle Drakken for being so cautious--so fussy. She liked to think she had more balls than he did. But tonight the shoe was on the other foot. This time the Princess would be more than tweaked. Heads would roll. It was just a question of whose.

Shego's right hand shook. She covered it with her left hand. That shook, too.

The henchman to her immediate right noticed. "MIss Go," he asked out of the corner of his mouth, "No disrespect meant toward you or the boss, Ma'am. But confidentially. The Doc always seems to--uh--underestimate Kim Possible. And then she hands us our ass on a plate. It seems like we're going for broke this time. Off the record--are we in trouble? Is the shit gonna hit the fan?"

"McGee--." she said in a low tone of voice.

"Ma-am?"

"Eyes on your own control panel. Don't ask stupid questions. Obey orders. And worry about pissing me off more than the Princess. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma-am," McGee said in a subdued voice. "Got it."

Shego took a deep breath. Be calm. Be at one with nature. Who was she kidding? Mother Nature with red hair and green eyes was coming on a rocket-powered broomstick to send them all to hell. She knew it. The henchmen knew it. Even the synthodrones knew it. Dr. D. had better know it. Sitting on his captain's chair like some high-and-mighty emperor.

The dot was approaching their location. Ready or not, Kim was coming. It would be hell to pay.

Ron had always wanted to see Bueno Nacho World Headquarters. But this was not a sightseeing trip. So he did not like the look of the sprawling complex that grew larger as they drew closer.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!' / Was there a man dismay'd/ Not tho' the soldiers knew / Some one had blunder'd/ Theirs not to make reply/ Theirs not to reason why/ Theirs but to do and die/ Into the valley of Death / Rode the six hundred.

And suddenly Ron smiled to himself. It was so easy--deciding to be with Kim to the end. It was a no-brainer. It made his mind clear. His recall of the poem was razor-sharp. His smile grew bigger. He should have faced death every school day. Then he could have aced his classes. _I'm with ya, K.P.--to the end. Mine is not to reason why/ Mine is but to do or die. / Into the valley of Death / We ride._

Kim's inner voice protested. _This is so the stupidity! You're going to rescue the one guy with the other guy's help--and you can't decide which one you want to be with! _She tried to tell herself_ I'm dating Erik! I want to be with Erik! _It wasn't working. For not the last time that night, she was having serious doubts about Erik's story. And it hit her like the blast of wind she was experiencing on the scooter as rocketing at a hundred-plus miles ah hour. She was going at this all wrong.

Kim had spent her life as a teenager looking for a permanent romantic relationship. What if that never happened? What if she never would have what her parents had? After all, a lot of relationships ended in breakup. A lot of marriages ended in divorce. What if there was no one for her?

Ron's inner self was shining through. Despite his being the biggest wuss she had ever known, he was also her dearest friend. He had been to the tropical rain forest so she could be on a date with Josh Mankey. And he was riding with her to God knows what so she could be with Erik. What if the most enduring male relationship in her life--other than her father--was destined for only friendship? Could she do any better than Ron?

And so while heroic choruses ran through Ron's mind like a song, inner doubts plagued Kim's heart.

In the Possible house, Annette Possible kneeled at her daughter's bedside and prayed. "Oh Lord--please keep my daughter--and her best friend--safe. And bring them together."

"Amen." Her husband's voice. He was kneeling at her side. "I was remembering what that boy did for me. One time he stole our car and disguised himself as me. Our car was totaled--but Drakken abducted him instead of me. And just last week--he almost sacrificed his life. He let that tentacled creature thrash the daylights out of him. He diverted it from crushing me and gave Kimmie time to rescue me. I've thought about, Annette. You're right. There was one man for my mother. There's one woman for me. And there's one boy for Kimmie-Cub." He sighed. "God help them both. And I'm sorry for every insult I ever gave Drew Lipsky. I've put us and the whole world at risk."

Annette tightly grasped his hand. "No, Jim. I was too harsh. I won't allow you to condemn yourself any more than I allowed Ron to condemn himself. And the daughter we raised and filled with life-lessons--and her friend, who's been like a member of our family--they'll be the solution, God willing, to the whole Dr. Drakken dilemma." She kissed her husband and they embraced.

The henchmen in front of the Bueno Nacho World Headquarters shouldered their weapons as they heard the approaching sound--like the high-pitched whine of a plummeting bomb.

Shego nervously drummed her fingers on the panel.

Drakken folded his hands and leered at the screen. "I'm waiting, Kimberly Ann," he said quietly. "Don't disappoint me."

Into the Valley of Death--they ride.

It would be the Last Ride--to the Last Battle.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	9. Chapter 9: The Last Battle

CajunBear73: I enjoyed your insights. I think faith in God is pivotal to triumphing over evil--whether around us or within us.

bthecatslayer: yeah. I'm a symphonic music junkie.

spectre666: yeah. Dr. Director's decision to let the sitch play out without GJ interfering does stretch the credulity. I knew that when I included it in the story. But I just **hadda** obey my plot bunny. So The Drama, don'tcha know?

Joe Stoppinghem: about the Dr. Director insert--what I said to spectre666. & you're right about growing a backbone.

Comet Moon & all: thanks for the reviews

To avoid the confusion between what the folk are thinking and what they are shouting, or speaking with emphasis, Rye.bread has decided to switch his font styles. Characters' thoughts are in _italics._ Characters' emphatic and emotional speaking are in **bold**.

based on K.P.-StD. All characters owned by Disney.

_**CHPT.9**_

_**THE LAST BATTLE**_

They drew up to the building grounds. Kim cut the rockets.

Henchmen appeared out of the bushes, armed with blasters.

"Ron!" shouted Kim. "Get close! Arms around me!"

"Huh?" shouted Ron. Mixed messages--as though this was the time for cuddling.

**"Hug me!"**

Ron responded with a squeeze around Kim's waist. It was lucky he didn't pin her arms to her side and make her lose her grip on the scooter handlebars--but he had the presence of mind to reach around her under her arms.

Kim released the handlebar with one hand and hit a button on the wrist of her other glove.

The henchmen fired their blasters.

Just in the instant of time, a sparkling barrier formed around Kim and Ron, and the blaster bolts glanced off.

_Badical!_ thought Ron. _Bondigetty! A force field!_ Now he wanted a battle suit more than ever.

The henchmen felt panic. It didn't work! They were getting too close--!

Kim hardly decreased their velocity as they drew near. Suddenly she gripped the scooter's handbrakes and turned hard. The scooter started to spin out--!

In a perfect arc, the rear end of the scooter knocked the first rank of henchmen off their feet. It swung in a complete circle.

Ron, unfortunately, lost his grip on Kim during the centrifugal pull. As they entered the second circle, he flew off, twirling like a propeller--

**"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--!!"**

--And straight into the second rank of henchmen. Down they went like bowling pins.

Kim braked the scooter and ran up to the heap of people. Two henchmen each on either end of the row were still standing, but staggering drunkenly. A flying kick from Kim's feet took out the two on the left. A double fist thrust the solar plexus of each took out the two on the right. And then Kim ran to her partner. She stooped and gently shook his shoulder. "Ron! Are you okay?"

Ron slowly sat up, groaning.

Kim knelt beside him. Thank goodness. His crash helmet was still on--but a little askew. She waved a hand in front of his face. "Ron?" She couldn't keep the worry out of her voice. "How many fingers do you see?"

"K.P.? Izzat you? Could you get 'em to stop the Merry-Go-Round? I gotta get off--feel like I'm gonna hurl!"

Kim hugged him to her chest impulsively, biting her lip. "You go ahead and hurl." _You big lovable lug! How could I even think of giving up my partner and friend? There has to be some other way! Not even Erik is worth this!_

Ron was dimly aware of Kim's hug. He savored the closeness. _An hour ago she was ready to bust my balls. Now she's afraid for my life. I'll never understand her--but what the hell--I'll always love 'er._ He dared to open his eyes. The world was still spinning. He started to keel over...

Kim steadied him. "Whoa, partner. Steady. Stay with me." _Yes, you goofball. Stay with me. Don't let me let you go._

Without knowing it, Ron's unspoken response answered her unspoken demand. _Stay with you? Until we're both dead and cold! Until they have to pry us apart!_ He opened his eyes again a slit. Movement! Some henchmen were moving!

It was a blur. He couldn't tell how many there were. Kim's back was to them. She couldn't see them. She was too distracted to be aware. Without thinking, he drew his grapple gun, aimed in the general direction. And fired.

**"Ron!"** Kim was shocked. **"What are you doing?"** She whipped around. Oh, God! Three henchmen, blasters aimed at her!

The hook and cable flew out. The hook beaned the middle henchman in the head. The cable went taut--and Ron's cargo pants were suddenly yanked off his legs!

Ron was knocked flat by the force of the pull. He pulled Kim with him. When she got up, she saw that the middle henchman was rolling on the ground, groaning. The other two were entangled in the line, struggling and cursing. One had Ron's pants on his head.

Kim backflipped her way to them, and kicked away their weapons. She gave one a judo chop to the neck by his shoulder blade, and he was still.

The other, with the pants on his head was shouting. His voice was muffled. "Jones! Harris! Did you guys plug those two? I can't see a damn thing! Somebody talk to me!"

Kim picked up a blaster rifle. She pulled Ron's pants off the man's head. They stared at each other.

"Oh, crud," he said.

Kim grinned evilly. "Nighty-night," she said, and struck him in the jaw with the rifle stock. And he was out cold.

Picking up the pants, Kim knelt by Ron. Her first impulse was to kiss him--not on the lips, as when she was Moodulated, but on the cheek, as she had under the mistletoe, when he had gone solo on a mission should she could spend Christmas with her family. But she suppressed it. It would have been hypocritical, in light of the harsh words they had between them earlier that evening. "Thank you," she murmured

Ron, still looking disoriented, grinned. "Hey, no big." He tried standing, but stumbled.

"Whoa, warrior," warned Kim, "Let me give you a hand." Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his chest and lifted him. "Here--lean on me and get your pants back on."

"Yeah--kinda breezy up the ol' boxer shorts at night.

"Please, Ron--too much info."

"Ya know, K.P., there's probably a whole platoon of henchmen and syntho-drone-y things inside the front door."

"Then we'll scale the wall--"

While Kim was reconnoitering the high ascent, Ron unbuckled his helmet. He walked to the scooter, propped it up, and lowered the kickstand. He set Kim's discarded helmet on the seat.

_That's my K.P._ thought Ron. _Always discarding items during missions. Like her parachute and helmet after a jump. Like the scuba gear after they got to Big Daddy Brotherson's island. Snowboards, waverunners, grapple line... Sometimes she would retrieve them, and sometimes not. You'd think she'd pick up the stuff up. After all, it costs money. Normally, she's a penny pincher, even if she does like to buy her wardrobe at Club Banana for twice as much money as it costs as Smarty Mart. Her home, room, closet, and school locker, they're as neat as a pin--nothing lying around. Himself, on the other hand, is the King of Stash. Saving stuff--and then trying to find a place to put it all. Untidy--at home, at school, on missions. Like his great-grandfather, Jon Stoppable--so his folks had told him. Well, of course you save stuff--if your parents are into the financial occupations--like bank teller._

It was an odd train of thought--recalling intimate details of their friendship when earlier that night he almost told her he **liked her**-liked her, and then their friendship seemingly dissolving in moments.

He was about to set his own helmet on the scooter seat--and the words of Sensei said themselves in his head, for the second time that night.

_A ninja in battle trusts his instincts as a bird trusts the wind under its wings. They lift him up and guide him, as surely as the sun opens up the flower in spring--as surely as the bird is guided in migration._ It was like Sensei was standing next to him.

Ron stood with his helmet in his hand--he stared at it--and at the back of his hand--the mission glove with the button for activating the blaster briefs--_yeah, I'm still wearin' those loser clothes--my other undies are all in the dirty clothes at home.._

It was almost an after-thought. _Hey! K.P.'s got a tricked-out suit--Ron-dog's got a few choice features in his clothes._

The push button on the back of their mission suit gloves--it was activated by the touch of the fingertips of the other mission glove--to prevent accidental activation. It worked by chemical sensitivity--or electronic sensitivity--something. The soft fabric held a network of tiny circuitry that transmitted a wireless signal to the device--rocket skates--blaster briefs--whatever. Like Bluetooth. And water- and impact-resistant. Something Wade had come up with.

Ron's battle instincts kicked in--like the phone call to Bueno Nacho HQ.--when he had figured out it was Drakken on the line. He recalled his wild ride over Tokyo as his blaster briefs had scattered the ninjas jumping up to catch Kim. He was making tracing motions in the air with his hands as he mentally pictured his insane flight trajectory. The ninjas didn't know what had hit them. And Kim had turned her head and smiled at him. "Thanks, Ron!" she had said. Wow. The memory warmed him down to his toes.

"Ron? Earth to Ron," said Kim impatiently. She tapped her forehead irritated. "C'mon, Ron. Head in the game."

Back to the present. Ron grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, K.P. Right. Head in the game." He stuffed the helmet into his backpack. Oh, yeah. Ron had game. The Ron-dog had a plan--a strategy.

In the command center, Shego waved frantically at the view screen. "Dr. D.! They wiped out your first string! I gotta get out there!"

Drakken held up a hand. "Not yet, Shego! Patience! This like a game of chess. Move, countermove. The true chess master anticipates many moves ahead. I've just sent in the pawns. It's still early in the game. I have yet to play my other pieces. Now come the castles."

The sound of approaching footsteps clomped inside the Bueno Nacho headquarters.

"Sounds like a whole platoon to me," said Ron.

Kim looked at him sourly. "Do you know how many men are in a platoon?"

"Not really," he said, again grinning sheepishly.

The double doors flung open. Henchmen poured out of the building--perhaps a veritable platoon. "There they are!" one said.

Kim raised her arms and opened her palms. "Cover your eyes!" she said to Ron. Twin flashes of light flared from the palms of her gloves. Twin streams of smoke erupted from the cuffs of her gloves.

Behind their goggles, the henchmen's eyes squinted. They coughed and fired through the smoke--at nothing. Waving the smoke away, the spot where Kim and Ron were standing was empty.

"Hey!" said one in admiration. "It's just like the ninja in the Bricks of Fury movie! A flash of light--a puff of smoke--and it's like they weren't there!"

The henchman next to him cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What's the deal?"

"Moron! Dumbbell! They're our opponents! We're supposed to take them down--not **fave** on them!"

Kim and Ron ascended smoothly to the roof on her hook and cable. She firmly grasped the hairdryer-turned-grapple gun and he firmly grasped her shoulders. She did not mind the pressure. It was familiar--something she was accustomed to. It felt like the old days.

The Kimmunicator beeped. "Kim? Ron?" asked Wade concernedly. "I watched you guys' first encounter with Drakken's henchmen--I hacked in on a spy satellite and zoomed in. I saw the flash and smoke screen. Are you okay?"

They reached the edge of the roof. Ron scrambled up over Kim's shoulders. He turned to extend his hand to her, but she had already vaulted over the edge.

"Thanks, Ron," she said. "I'm okay." Her tone of voice was normal--modulated--like there had been no argument between them all night. She answered Wade's call. "We're spankin', Wade. That smoke screen thing you installed in the battle suit was really badical." A quick glance around the roof showed no hostile sentinels. "Okay, Wade. We're going in."

"Check your backpack first, Kim," instructed Wade.

"My backpack?" asked Kim.

"Yeah. It's something I had the courier put in," answered Wade.

It was the courier service Wade had retained to deliver upgrades of his inventions to Kim's locker, backpack,--even her closet in her bedroom at home--but that is another story.

Kim pulled out a small tin of Kissy Girl Lip Gloss and handed it to Ron while she rummaged in her backpack. "See what this is."

Ron looked at it suspiciously. "K.P.--the last time I handled one of your make-up thingys, I almost zapped myself with a laser beam." He pried the lid off. A thin curl of purple-colored gas wafted up. Ron sniffed and frowned. "Hmm. Knockout gas that looks lip gloss, or lip gloss that looks like lip gloss?'' His eyes glassed over, his head sagged on his shoulder, and his mouth drooled. "Uhh--."

Kim obligingly closed the lid.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Knockout gas."

"Thanks for checking on that," said Kim dourly

"Keep looking," said Wade.

Kim next pulled out a sheaf of papers.

Ron examined it and looked puzzled. "Is this some sort of coded message?"

Kim's dour expression bloomed again. "History homework. It's what I completed on the plane ride home on Nakasumi-san's personal jet."

Ron grinned sheepishly. "Oh, yeah. His brain trust was completing mine--and it fell out on the parachute jump. That's why I didn't recognize it."

"Keep looking," said Wade teasingly.

Kim next pulled out what looked like a ray-gun--like one of Drakken's death rays.

Ron stared. "K.P.--since when are you packing?"

Kim was equally puzzled. "It looks like a, uh--toy?"

"Oh, this is no toy," assured Wade. "Well, not since I modified it. Electromagnetic scrambler."

Ron scratched his head. "Let's pretend I have no idea what that means."

"I converted a regular object into a high-tech device--just like the hair-dryer into a grapple gun," said Wade. "I had an old toy raygun lying around and I came up with an idea."

"Wade," said Ron, mystified, "You've always played with computers and stuff. When did you ever have regular toys?"

Wade chuckled. "Oh, back when I was little. I had just completed toilet-training and was learning to read sci-fi novels. It was my Spaceman phase."

"What does it do?" asked Kim.

"It fires darts. And the darts have been modified. They contain a battery operated transmitter that generate an intense electromagnetic field. The darts will stick to any surface--once they have been fired. A spring action will pop the protective cover off the head of the dart and expose the adhesive--and activate the transmitter."

Ron's face brightened. "Hey! I get it! 'Electromagnetic scrambler'! The dart messes up an electronic device--like where they scramble radio signals on the sci-fi shows--or the way a magnet will wipe a computer hard drive clean!"

"On target, Ron," said Wade admiringly. "It'll shut down Drakken's whole system."

Kim stared open-mouthed at Ron. His head was in the game.

They found the door and Kim picked the lock. They entered the pitch-dark building and pulled out their flashlights.

"K.P.," said Ron quietly, "I'm thinking--wouldn't Drakken have this place wired? Like motion sensor alarms and stuff?'

Kim swallowed. Ron really did have his thinking cap on. His brain was in a higher gear than usual. "Probably," she said tersely. Can't be helped. He already knows we're here--after that big entrance we made out front."

"Does that super suit have any light-bending invisibility thingys--or can it, like, avoid radar or infra-red--or stuff like that?"

Kim swallowed again, and felt a keen stab of shame. Ron's brain** was** in high gear. He even sounded almost like Wade. "No--the stealth mode isn't operational yet," she said quietly.

Ron shrugged. "Oh--just wondered." It didn't really matter if _he_ got nailed--but it would be more assuring if Kim had an extra hedge of safety. He almost said it--but then thought it would sound insincere--like he was trying to impress her--or kiss up--so he didn't say anything.

Kim caught the import of unspoken words. _He's thinking about me. He's worried about me._ The world was turning upside down. What if the sitch were reversed? What if Ron were captured? Would Erik have ignored his mutual dislike of Ron to help Kim rescue him? She wanted to think so. But suddenly she wasn't sure.

They tiptoed through the darkness with only the twin beams of their flashlights illumining the area around them. There was another door ahead. Unlocked. A descending staircase.

It was a huge gallery. They were on a narrow elevated walkway, like a balcony with a safety railing on their left. Big showcase windows let the moonlight through. Clouds were gathering outside. A storm was brewing--just like the storm that Kim would generate when she found the two rats in this maze--Drakken and Shego.

The architecture of the room was trendy and post-modern. It was a conference room, for large conventions, by her guess.

Ron was paying attention to the wall on their right. Pictures displaying the history of Bueno Nacho. A picture of the first restaurant back in the ancient days of the 1960's. "Look, Kim. The original Bueno Nacho, where it all started." He pretended to sniffle. "It brings a tear to my eye," he said nostalgically, and wiped a nostalgic tear from his cheek.

"Ron!" she said sharply. "Keep your head in the game!" And she tapped her head with her forefinger.

He twirled his flashlight. "Worry not, I'm ready for anything!"

The look in Kim's eyes softened. "Y'know what? I honestly think you are."

They were both aware of the decreasing tension between them. They were acting like it was the old days. Ron was pretending to act like the goofball. Kim was pretending to act like the temperamental. And both were afraid of upsetting the mood

In the control room, Shego was frantic. "Dr. D.! C'mon! Gimme the word! Our guys got mowed down out front! Those two have gotta be in the building by now!"

Drakken chuckled quietly. "Not yet, my dear. The chess game continues. Now I move my knights. Ninjas! Go!"

Kim and Ron descended another staircase to the main floor of the convention room.

"Wow," whispered Ron. "You could put an army in this room."

Each heard a noise behind them. Both turned. They saw tall man-shapes with goggle covered eyes and no faces…synthodrones!

One grabbed for Kim, and she ducked. She swung her leg and swept its legs from under it. It fell flat on its back. She touched a button on her belt, and a blade flicked from the toe of her boot. She swung her other leg and slashed. The syntho-goo poured from the tear and the synthodrone deflated.

"Wow!" said Ron admiringly. "Smooth move! Like the guy in the spy movie!"

Kim saw flickers in the dark, like light bulb filaments. Drakken's ninjas with their katana handpieces, that generated electrical blades--just like in Tokyo! More than twenty, this time! And the flash of reflected light! Synthrodrones! With the light reflecting off their goggles. "Ron! Head's up!" She leapt up in a forward flip and landed between a ninja and a synthodrone.

The ninja swung and the synthodrone grabbed. Kim ducked. The ninja's electrical blade slashed the synthodrone's midsection. Goo spilled from the synthodrone and it sagged like an empty hot air balloon. Kim's foot shot up and connected with the ninja's jaw. He, too, sagged to the ground

Ron had already seen, too. His Sensei-sense kicked in. Time for the strategy. As Kim leapt between the two opponents, Ron reached into his backpack and grabbed his crash helmet. Hastily he clapped it on and tightened the strap. He loosened his belt buckle and hit the button on the back of his mission glove as his pants dropped.

Kim had downed the synthodrone and the ninja. The others were closing in on her. "Ron?" Where was he? She needed him to cover her back.

Ron felt the sputter of jets as his blaster briefs ignited. "Kim!" he yelled. "Duck!" He covered his head with his arms and hoped to God that this would work. And then off he flew, like a Roman candle.

Kim was trying to be attentive to the dozens of enemies that were drawing near. Ron's shout distracted her. She kicked the legs out from under one ninja and turned to look as she whirled around. She watched, appalled, as her partner flew here and there, to and fro, back and forth, crisscrossing the chamber, spiraling like one the Tweebs' out-of-control rockets. **"Ron!" **_Where had he come up with this?_

He was a rocket-powered pinball, pinging from post to post. He was mowing down their opponents like grass. They were falling like dominoes.

Ron felt the thump and thud as he collided with numerous bodies, both human and synthodrone. At last, he ran out of fuel and dropped into a jumble of synthodrone bodies.

Kim ran to her partner. Again, she lifted him by his shoulders and cradled his head. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying--for the umpteenth time that night. "Ron Stoppable! What the hell kind of strategy was that?"

He laughed. "Hot damn! Whatta ride! And I mean extreme! K.P., you have so gotta try this!" He looked around. Not one opponent was left standing. Ninjas were sprawled on the floor. Synthodrones were plastered to the walls, their goo contents splattered everywhere. "Hey, it worked!"

"I could so shake you--until your eyes rattle!" said a tweaked Kim. "Will you tell me where you came up with such a harebrained idea?"

"Well--two places. When I was flying around in Tokyo, I nailed the ninjas that tried to jump you. You did the same thing with your scuba tank. You used it to take out those motion-sensor underwater gun things--ya know--when we were scuba diving--trying to go undercover at Big Daddy Brotherson's island casino. Besides--" Ron grinned like an idiot. "--You just told me to keep my head in the game." He motioned around the room. "My head hasn't been this useful since I wore my Mascot Mask!"

In the control room, Shego was in a panic. "D! You're using up all your 'chess pieces'! Your pawns, your castles, your knights. You gotta send in your Queen--me!"

"Tut-tut. My dear Shego. Tonight we play by the rules. Tonight we taste the sweet savor of victory! Now time for my Bishop!" Drakken lifted up the phone at the armrest of his captain's chair. "Sumo Ninja! You expressed a heartfelt wish to turn the Cheerleader and the Buffoon into a couple grease spots! Here's your opportunity! They're dropping your fellow ninjas like flies in the Upper Exhibition Hall! Give it your best, my lumbering friend!"

Since they had arrived at Bueno Nacho headquarters, Kim had been surprised at every turn by both Ron's resourcefulness and recklessness. But for the first time, the thought formed inside her head. _If he's the creep Erik says he is--why is he acting like he's got no tomorrow. Why is he trying so hard to do all the fighting for me--against these awful odds? Like he's almost trying--_

Kim's eyes widened with a shock of realization. She let the thought finish itself. _--Like he's trying--to protect me._

And she dared to pose the question: "Ron--why all these insane risks? Where's this coming from?"

Ron hesitated for a second. _She's going to think I'm trying to kiss up to her._ But he tossed such thoughts aside and just opened his mouth. He spoke with simple dignified courage. "The last thing your mom said to me before we left your house was--if I value the friendship I have with her--bring back her daughter." He left out the part where Mrs.Dr.P had also asked Ron for the sake of his love for Kim.

Kim's shock deepened. Her mouth opened as though to speak. This was the closest Ron had ever come to saying that he liked-_liked_ her. It was the most profound thing he had ever spoken.

To divert the mood, she started to reminisce. "This has been quite a night--we started at the Prom--." Kim hesitated. The mood felt so fragile. She must make what she said non-threatening. No Erik. Gently guide the mood--back to their friendship.

His head cradled in her lap, Ron also sensed the mood. And he responded with a goofy grin. "Yeah--and I came in shooting of my mouth about the evil Little Diablos and thirty thousand Bueno Nacho outlets worldwide--."

"--Which you were totally right about--"

"--And then a couple of them trash your house--." His grin widened. "--And I stood there squealing for help--and you saved my butt--"

"--And you saved both our butts driving like an absolute madman--"

"--On a scooter your fam tricked out--"

"And we ended up on the top of the Bueno Nacho sign--"

"--And here we are--"

"--At the place of your dreams--" Kim smirked with gentle satire.

"--Wiping out D's men like tissue paper."

They had done it--navigated the mine field of a conversation without mentioning Erik--both praising the other's bravery while each minimizing their own deeds.

Without realizing it, Kim was stroking Ron's hair.

_She's right_, Ron's thoughts said. _I'm in the place of my dreams--next to her._ He reached up to clasp her hand.

Suddenly they felt the ground rumble and shake. They looked behind them. It was a mountain on legs running toward them, twirling a couple nunchucks.

A final leap, a forward flip, and he landed with a thoom. It was the Sumo Ninja whom they had last seen in Tokyo. "I shall be avenged!" he bellowed--in a high falsetto voice.

Kim and Ron tried to stifle their giggles. This didn't seem to be a serious risk.

"What?" demanded the Ninja--in his tiny voice.

"Dude, I'm so sorry," Ron gasped. "Did I give you that bad a wedgie?"

"You dare mock me?" squeaked the Ninja. He seized Ron by his shirt and jammed him into the wall.

"Dude!" Ron insisted. "That high voice! It's just not gonna work."

This infuriated the Ninja. He shook Ron like a rag doll and raised his bushel basket-sized fist to flatten Ron's head against the wall. "I am strong like the mountain! I am swift like the wind! I am vengeance!"

Kim reached into her belt holster. Despite Ron's bravado, this _was_ a serious risk. And she needed to deal with it. She tossed Ron the Kissy Girl sleep gas. Rufus popped out of Ron's shirt, intercepted the tin and opened it. Ron held his breath.

The purple gas wafted out. "Vengeance...will...be...mine." The Ninja's eyelids drifted shut. His grip on Ron went limp. He fell backwards like a tree. The floor shook with a thoom again.

Ron picked himself up and straightened out the rumples in his mission shirt. "Thanks, K.P."

"No big," she said quietly.

Shego was going ballistic. "_**Drakken! **_What the hell are you waiting on? For monkeys to fly outa your butt? You're using up your men like toilet paper. You're gonna get flushed like a piece of crap! **Lemme at 'er!**"

"Don't have a conniption, Shego. _Now_...now you may go."

**" 'Bout frickin' time!" **Shego ignited her hands and ran from the room.

Drakken chuckled. "She thinks **she's** the Queen of my chesspieces! They're about to find out who's All That!" He lifted up his captain's chair phone again. "Synthodrone 901! Get up here!"

"Yes sir!" a voice said smartly.

Shego bolted up the passageways, stairwells, and corridors to the exhibition room where the battle had taken place. Her clawed fingers flexed and unflexed. She snarled to herself. Princess was going to pay for ruining her designer original gown at the Bermuda Triangle Night Club battle. Cheese soufflé. Marinara sauce. Those stains would never come out. And Sidekick would pay for clipping her from behind with a dishcart. It took three showers to shampoo the mashed potatoes and turkey dressing out of her hair. Not to mention the bruises. It would be weeks before she could wear anything with a bare back or midriff that wouldn't show the black-and-blue marks.

Kim and Ron gazed at each other with quiet significance. Each was trying to work up the nerve to say something--

Shego burst into the room up on the balcony and fired off a volley of green fireballs at Team Possible.

Explosions erupted around Kim and Ron.

"Ron!" shouted Kim. Get behind me!" She activated her force field.

Shego was attacking with berserk frenzy. She lobbed a dozen fireballs. A section of the window and wall facing outside was shattered.

Kim turned and spoke to Ron over her shoulder. "Ron--stay back--you can't help me on this one!" She forward-flipped and landed in the open. "Bring it on, Shego!"

Shego pretended to regard her nails. "You know what I really hate?"

"What?" Kim challenged. "When somebody tries to fry your partner?"

Shego looked up puzzled. This was unexpected. "How about when somebody kidnaps your boyfriend?"

Kim hesitated. "I was getting to that." _Oh yeah--Erik--__**that's **__why they came. _It shocked Kim again--the gradual change in her focus.

"Here's what I hate, Princess!" Shego railed. "When somebody doesn't know when to give up!" She aimed a double-handed blast of green energy at Kim--and left a great crater on the floor.

Ron's eyes widened in horror. Where was Kim?

Kim had cartwheeled out of the way. She continued evade the bolts that Shego fired from hand after hand.

Fascinated, Ron watched the battle. The battle suit projected its force field bubble again. It fended off Shego's fireballs.

"Kimmie's got an upgrade," Even Shego grudgingly expressed admiration. "Let's see how it handles an overload." She prepared another double-handed blast.

Kim simply raised her right hand.

And Shego released her deadly ball of fire.

Kim's glove morphed into a giant circuitry-laden paddleball racquet. It caught the fireball and lobbed it back at Shego.

Shego's eyes widened in shock as the fireball rocketed toward her. She had to duck. The fireball blew out the wall behind her. She grimaced as chunks of glass and plaster pelted her.

"Hey, Shego!" shouted Ron. "A taste of your own medicine. How're ya likin' it?"

Shego glared and flipped Ron her middle finger.

"Ron!" Kim shushed. "Head in the game!"

"Something Nerdlinger came up with?" spat Shego.

Kim hand-sprung to a narrow beam and smirked. "Not bad, huh?"

Shego shrugged. "Yeah, but still not in my league." She hand-sprung to the beam behind Kim and raked Kim's arm with her clawed hand. The battle suit sleeve tore open and Shego drew blood.

"Ungh!" grunted Kim. She was knocked off the narrow beam.

Ron gasped as Kim plummeted to the floor below. There wasn't time for her to draw her grapple gun.

"Like I said, Pumpkin--not in my league!" shouted Shego.

But a cable flew from the sleeve of Kim's suit and snagged the beam. She swung back up and rejoined the fray; and the tear in the battle suit drew closed.

Kim glared at Shego. "You were saying?"

"What the hell--" muttered Shego. Snarling, she ignited her hands and charged madly at Kim.

Kim ran to meet the charge. Her gloves glowed blue as Shego's glowed green.

They sparred. Kim matched Shego blow for blow. She kicked and Shego fell back.

Shego recovered and aimed blast after blast at Kim's feet. Kim somersaulted away as Shego ran after her, shooting bolts.

Ron stomped his feet and applauded. He whistled and bellowed. **"Go Super Suit, Kim-girl! Come on, K.P.! Yeah! Alright! Yeah! Yeah!"**

Kim overheard Ron's enthusiastic cheering. It was rather distracting. It was almost embarrassing. It was heartwarming. And in the corner of her mind, a little voice asked a question. _Girl--if Erik is right about Ron--why is he cheering me on like a maniac?_

Shego smirked. "Hey--this is ironic! The Cheerleader has a cheerleader!"

"Guess what, Shego?" growled Kim. "You're not in **his **league!"

"Screw this!" hissed Shego. "We're gonna finish what we started, Princess!" She blasted the floor around Kim's feet, and Kim tumbled heavily to the ground.

Kim was dazed for a second. She looked up to see Shego descending upon her with flaming hands.

Shego tried to crush Kim's skull with her knee. Kim rolled away. She swung at Kim with repeatedly with blazing karate chops. Frantically, Kim kicked back and held her at bay. A foot connected with Shego's jaw and she staggered.

Kim regained her feet. She blocked a blow with her forearm. For a moment, the two stood chin to chin, just shoving.

Shego was beginning to get the point. Kim's battle suit was constructed to withstand her fire. She taunted Kim. "Hey, Erik's cute! Once you're out of the picture, maybe I'll date him!"

"Guess what, Shego--you can have him!" blurted Kim. She was shocked by her own statement.

Shego was taken aback, too. "Wha--? But I thought--!"

Kim pressed the advantage of Shego's temporary confusion. She released a flurry of blows. Shego dodged frantically, left and right.

Kim saw fear in Shego's eyes. It seemed that battle suit kicked in. She felt a surge of power in her arms. Her hands became a blur. Somewhere, somehow, she connected with Shego.

The villainess slammed into a wall and fell heavily to the floor. She did not move.

Ron continued his spirited shouting. He did not see the Sumo Ninja come to consciousness behind him. Rufus did see--and squealed in fright.

Ron was pumping his fists in his excitement. A fist struck the Ninja's chin

The Ninja's head snapped back. He groaned and with a resounding boom his head hit the floor

Ron turned around. "Oops! Sorry, dude, I--!" He stared at his hands, at the unconscious giant, and at his hands again. And the futility of apologizing to a fallen enemy dawned on him. He smiled absurdly to himself.

Ron continued to stare at his hands. From somewhere the power had come. It was within him.

No more fake heroics. No more Fearless Ferret. No more Zorpox. Was it the Mystical Monkey power? Was it belief in him that Sensei and Yori had? Was it Mrs.Dr.P's belief in him? Was it his love for Kim? Did it matter? "The Ron-dog came to play!" And he's not going home without the win--or the girl.

Ron looked around in amazement. Shego was down. The henchmen were down. The ninja were down. Even the Sumo Ninja. It was quiet. Was that it? Had they won?

"Hey! Dr. D!" Ron shouted to the ceiling. "It's me! The Sidekick! The Buffoon! Whats-his-name! Izzat all you got?"

In the command center, Drakken motioned to the one standing next to him. "901! Get up there! It's your turn--show the lad what we've got!"

Synthodrone 901 turned to leave...

...And Drakken added: "Don't forget--your tuxedo!" He grinned evilly. "After all--you've been to a Prom!"

901 grinned evilly. "Yes, sir," he said maliciously. There was a flash of color, and his synthodrone jumpsuit became a tuxedo with white dinner jacket and black tie.

Back up in the exhibition room, Ron had finished his rant. He felt a silence behind him, and eyes upon him. He turned

Kim was staring in amazement. "Ron--you downed that Sumo Ninja with one blow--."

It was just then that his pants slid down. Ron grimaced and Kim suppressed a laugh. And they looked sharply at each other. Each felt something like an electric current--.

_Ron, you're so weird--but I so like you!_ her heart cried out.

_Oh, K.P, you're so beautiful! _his heart cried out.

He heard his name as though in his mind.

"Ron, you're so weird--but I so like you."

Kim started as though she had been stung by a bee.

"Oh, K.P., you're so beautiful!"

"Did you say something?" each blurted at once.

"No, did you?" they blurted again.

"Oh my God," Kim whispered.

"Freaky weird," Ron muttered.

_I still have feelings for him!_ Kim said to herself. _I've got to tell him! I don't care what he thinks--or what anybody thinks!_

For the first time in her life, the two distinct voices in her head spoke clearly.

_"But Erik's your date," _said the Food Chain Kim. _"Do you really want people to say you couldn't get a date and had to go with your best friend?"_

_"I don't care," _said the Mission Kim. _"I can save the world. Why can't I choose who __**I**__ want to go out with?"_

_"But what about what Erik said--Ron and Amelia?" _said the Food Chain girl.

_"If that's so true, why did he consent--insist--on coming out with me?" _said the Mission girl.

The entire inner dialogue took place in the blink of an eye. And she made up her mind. Kim took a step down the stairwell toward Ron--.

As though his feet guided themselves, Ron took step up the stairwell toward Kim--.

"--Kim!" Erik was coming down the escalator.

Ron's soul felt like a punctured balloon. Oh, yeah, he thought sourly, that's why they came--to rescue Erik.

"Wow," said Erik, motioning toward Shego's unconscious form. "Didn't know you cared that much."

"Uh--er--Erik! You're--um--okay!" Kim blurted confusedly. She ran up and gave him a light hug.

Ron's stomach churned. Sick and wrong.

"Hey, what kind of greeting is that to give your Prom date?" said Erik. "Where's the enthusiastic hug that the heroine gives to the man of her heart she rescues. And speaking of rescue, I'm supposed to reward my heroine. How about that kiss now?"

Ron sulked.

Kim could feel. Ron was watching. She had to make this quick. Then she had to go and make him understand. "Erik," she said in a low tone, "We have to talk--you and me." _Quick, girl, before you lose your nerve and get all starry-eyed. _"This--won't work--."

Ron's ears perked up. _She's breaking up with him? Here and now?_

Erik's smile turned ugly. "Why, Kimmie, how surprising you can be. How am I supposed to take this?"

"Erik, I'm sorry--don't take this wrong--but I just realized--you're not the one for me--"

Ron overheard Kim's words. He started to feel the most amazing and intense elation. But in the middle of it all, suddenly he was uneasy. In fact, alarm bells were going off in his head. Sensei's words: _A ninja in battle trusts his instincts... They...guide him--as surely as the bird is guided in migration. _What Amelia had said: she had felt electricity coursing through Erik's hand. **"****Kim****!" **he screamed.** "****Get away from him****!"**

What was Erik saying to Kim? "Around here I'm known as Synthodrone 901."

Kim was stunned. What was Erik saying? What was Ron saying? She felt a sudden dreadful realization. She had been played. She tried to withdraw from Erik's embrace--and his arms turned into iron bands.

Adrenalin surged in Ron, and Ron surged toward Erik. Like a bullet he moved. He ran up the descending escalator like a stone from a sling.

Too late.

He heard the electricity crackling and Kim groaning. He saw Kim sag in Erik's arms like a wet noodle. Red-eyed madness came over Ron. He charged. His only thought was get Kim out of there--and maybe rend Erik limb from limb.

And he didn't notice Shego until she sucker-punched him. She came in from the side and thrust an elbow into his neck. His momentum flipped him backward. He rotated completely around and landed heavily face down. Everything started to go dark.

In the control room, Drakken leapt from his captain's chair and pumped his fists aloft. **"Check and mate! I win, Miss Kimberly Ann!"** The henchmen at the controls turned to each other and shrugged. Had the boss really pulled it off? Finally?

"Oh, sorry, Sidekick," cooed Shego sarcastically. "I was playing possum. Princess had me down--but not out. Sorry to spoil your heroics."

There was a flash of color, and through the haze of rapidly ensuing unconsciousness, Ron saw Erik's tuxedo turn into a purple synthodrone body suit.

_Oh, badical,_ Ron said to himself. _Pretty Boy is a Syntho-zoidal-robot-thingy. K.P. upgraded her mission suit--and Dr. D. upgraded his line-up._

The last thing Ron saw before he blacked out was Erik holding a limp helpless Kim. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

Sick and wrong.

The last thing Ron heard was Shego laughing and Erik gloating. "Kimmie's still with me--Ron-Dog. And she promised me that kiss."

Very sick and wrong.

Ron's fingers twitched and he was still.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_

Rye.bread knows. It is a major departure from the movie to have Kim gravitate to Ron _before _the imprisonment. But he exercised the writer's prerogative--and a little literary license. He decided that Kim would behave worthier than waiting to be zapped to decide to break up with Erik. So Kim resolves to be with Ron before she is aware that Erik is on Drakken's side.


	10. Chapter 10: The Tide Ebbs

Guyver Unit 1: here I am updating.

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Comt Moon, AMC, Buddy Katt 42, & reader: thanks for the reviews.

This is a scene not found in the movie K.P.-StD.

Why did I include it? Because the plot bunny did it--the idea popped into my head. Plus, I wanted to convey a message.

Self-esteem is good. "Anything is possible" is good to tell a child. But there arise times in a life when situations are beyond one's own ability to deal with. As the Gospel song goes:

Oh, you can't stand up all by yourself,

You can't stand up alone.

You need the touch of a Mighty Hand.

You can't stand up alone.

Or as the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and other rehab groups say: when rebuilding a life, you must look to a Higher Power, and acknowledge your need and inability to deal.

_**From the last episode**_

_"Uh--er--Erik! You're--um--okay!" Kim blurted confusedly. She ran up and gave him a light hug._

_"Hey, what kind of greeting is that to give your Prom date?" said Erik. "Where's the enthusiastic hug that the heroine gives to the man of her heart she rescues. And speaking of rescue, I'm supposed to reward my heroine. How about that kiss now?"_

_Kim could feel. Ron was watching. She had to make this quick. Then she had to go and make him understand. "Erik," she said in a low tone, "We have to talk--you and me. This--won't work--."_

_Erik's smile turned ugly. "Why, Kimmie, how surprising you can be. How am I supposed to take this?"_

_"Erik, I'm sorry--don't take this wrong--but I just realized--you're not the one for me--"_

_**"**__**Kim**__**!" **__screamed Ron.__** "**__**Get away from him**__**!"**_

_Erik's evil smile chilled Kim. "Got a secret to tell you, Kim. Around here I'm known as Synthodrone 901." _

_Something was wrong. Kim's battle instincts should have kicked in. She should have crescent-kicked him into next week. But her response--it was all based on panic--trying to just get away._

_Her defenses were down. Her reflexes were off. The battle suit whose force field had resisted Shego's bolts was totally ineffectual._

_Electricity arced through Kim's body--and consciousness fled..._

_**CHPT 10**_

_**THE TIDE EBBS**_

Kim's head spun. This couldn't be right. She had defeated Shego. With Ron's help, she had defeated Drakken's assembled host--henchmen, ninjas, and synthodrones. She had rescued Erik Drake. And on her own--with no one but her own inner voice--she had decided to go cold turkey--to kick her dependence on the Food Chain. She and Ron were within moments of beginning a new phase together--of taking their relationship to a new--level? No--to a new sphere--a new world. But Drakken had uncapped his secret weapon. He had played on her weakness--not as a warrior, but as a teenage girl. Her boyfriend--who was the combination of Walter Nelson, Señor Senior, Jr., and Josh Mankey, who had snagged her heart, for whom she had fallen in the worst way--who had pushed her on the swing, given her rides on his motorbike, shared pizza with her--he was her Achilles Heel, designed by Dr. Drakken. And she had killed Ron's heart in the process.

_(This isn't fair. Let me go back! Let me make it up to him! I know I was loyal to him once upon a time!)_

Kim dialed the phone with difficulty, her arms around Walter Nelson, her eyes trying to focus past his head and cheek.

"Kim?" said the boy with the braces

"Yeff, Walper?" asked the girl with the braces.

"I'm fo fowwy. Diff waf spupid. Twyig to kiff anb gettig ou bwaces stuck."

_He was sorry. So was she. Trying to kiss and getting their braces stuck. It __**was**__ stupid_

"I haff an idea," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm cawwig fomeone who can hewp," she answered, as she tried to dial the phone. _Please, Ron, be home--alone._

"Hello, Stoppable residence."

_Oh, thank goodness! _"Hewo? Wom?"

"K.P.? Izzat you?" asked Ron, puzzled.

"Yeff! Wom! It'f we!" she said frantically.

"We? You and who else?"

"No, Wom! We! Kib Poffibu!" Kim cringed at Ron's accidental guess. _Of course it wasn't just "Me". It __**was**__ "We"--her and Walter._

"K.P.? You sound funny! You okay?"

"Wom! I meeb hewp!"

"Help? You need help?"

"Yeff! Hewp! I meeb hewp! I'b ib twoubu!"

Trouble? What kinda trouble?"

"I cam'p tew you ofer da phobe. I'm im a reaw fifch."

"A what?"

"A fifch, Wom! A fifch!" _It was awful--trying to make herself understood when her teeth were stuck to Walter's teeth, their lips almost pressure-welded together--and trying to fight the guilt feeling at the same time._

"Oh--a sitch!"

"Cam you come ofer pu by houf?"

"Your house? K.P., I'll be there in five!"

It was actually a fifteen minute bicycle ride from the Stoppable house to the Possible house. Ron would make it in twenty, Kim told herself.

"Kib--bu you fik Wom wiw be bad when he fees uf?" asked the boy with braces.

Did she think Ron would be mad when he saw them? Kim laughed weakly. "Oh--Wom amb I aw pipe." Kim struggled to tell herself in her head that her and Ron WERE pipe--er, tight--even tighter than the deathlock her braces were in with Walter Nelson's braces at the moment.

And the look on Ron's face when he pounded on Kim's front door, after a marathon ten minute bike ride. Kim and Walter walked sideways like a couple crabs. Her arm waved in the air for a moment as she tried to feel for the doorknob.

He was huffing with exertion.

The look on his face? She could barely see it out the corner of her eye. But she could feel it. The look of hurt on his face left a burn of shame on her face. The grip of guilt on her throat that went all the way down to her heart.

"Hi, Wom!" both Kim and Walter said.

Ron scratched his head. "You're both--stuck."

"Uh-huh," both Kim and Walter said. _Please--please please please--don't ask how we got stuck,_ Kim pled silently to herself.

"Uh--how did you get stuck," asked Ron. "**Nope!** Nope. So none of my business. Doesn't matter. Forget I asked. But--uh--how do I get you unstuck?"

Both Kim and Walter stretched their necks so Ron could get closer. There was no avoiding the look in his eyes when he saw Kim and Walter's lips were touching.

Walter Nelson couldn't tell then--or any time after--whether the look in Ron's eyes was smoldering resentment--because Kim was letting someone besides her best friend kiss her--or anguished deprivation--for the same reason--or bewilderment--because there was no hope of getting the two sets of braces separated.

But Kim could tell. Ron's moods were as easy to tell apart as crane and mantis kung-fu. She could read him like a book. And the word she attached to the look on his face was betrayal. He wanted to run from this awful scene and back to the shelter of his own home. _Please, Ron, don't leave!_ she thought frantically to herself. _We need you to get us apart--and __**I **__need to make it up to you--somehow._

The thought came to her--she could let Ron kiss her, too. But she knew immediately--it would be like a cheap bribe--it would add insult to injury. Ron would feel like a second class citizen.

"Lemme try something," Ron mumbled. He put a hand on each of their heads and tried to pull them apart.

"_Ow! Wom!_ Dat _hurps_!" protested Kim

"Dat waf ftupid! Did you do dat on purpof?" asked an indignant Walter. Had Ron done it out of stupidity, or on purpose?

The pain in Ron's eyes only increased. "Uhh--jeez, guys, I'm sorry. I just thought--well, I dunno **what**I thought." He scratched his haea some more. "Uh, K.P.--should I call your parents?"

Kim panicked. "**Mo! **Mot dat! Daddy wiw** kiw **me!" Daddy's little Kimmie-Cub--kissing a boy--Kim trembled at the thought of being paddled--and grounded until she was as old as Nana. "Cam't you fink of anyfing ewf!"

"But--your dad builds rockets! He could figure out how to unhook you two!"

"Wom! Pweaze! Mo!" Kim was desperate.

"Well--how about your brothers? They're good at taking things apart!"

"Da Tweabf? Mo!" Her little brothers would rat her out faster than light speed.

Ron looked blank for a moment--and then his face lit up. "K.P! I got it! But I gotta call home!"

And so Ron called his folks. "But Mom...no, Mom, Kim is _not _in trouble. Yes, Mom everything is fine!

Kim's heart melted in admiration. Ron pled his case like a lawyer--like a statesman. Not just what he said, but how he said it. The tone of voice. The heartfelt appeal.

"Mom, it was the strangest accident. Yeah, I was here--after school. Kim, Walt, and I were studying--math. In the kitchen. At the table. Walter got up to sharpen his pencil, and while he was walking back, he tripped on the rug. Kim had turned around to ask him something, and they bumped faces--just hard enough to lock braces. No, Mom, we can't wait until her parents get home! It's a safety issue! Plus, their family dentist is on vacation in--"

"Mexficko?" ventured Kim quietly.

"Yeah--Mexico. And if we wait, they could both suffer permanent damage to their teeth and gums. C'mon. I know Doc Heinz. He won't mind. You can take it out of my allowance." Ron finally hung up and gave Kim the thumbs-up. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

Mrs. Stoppable arrived to the Possible house, and the kids piled in the car--Ron in the front passenger seat, and Kim and Walter in back--moving very carefully.

Mrs. Stoppable glanced at her watch. "We're lucky--Dr. Heinz has time for an emergency appointment." And she looked narrowly at her son's dear friend. "Kim--I'm not YOUR mother--and it's none of my business--but can I ask how this happened?"

Kim squirmed. "Uhhh--how ip happeb? Wew--It'f a fewwy fummy ftowy."

Yes, thought Mrs. Stoppable grimly. A very funny story. Then why was her dear son sitting so quiet and withdrawn?

_Kimberly Ann Possible!_ said the Mission Girl._ You hypocrite! How DARE you dump on Ron for having Amelia Mirador over to the treehouse?_

_(But that was six years ago! _protested the Food Chain Girl. _Half our lifetimes! Okay, so I wasn't so loyal to Ron. I was younger then than the Tweebs are now! Doesn't that cut me some slack? I've grown up since then! I've matured! There have been other times!)_

Ron brought the Purple Lilly from the Amazon rainforest that healed her Blush Syndrome. And he gave her the thumbs up! He was really okay with her and Josh! Good ol' Ron

But the next day--at school--in fact, for the next week--Ron was silent and withdrawn--just like when Erik would later show up. It took her days to draw Ron out of his shell.

_So Not Fair!_ said the Food Chain Girl. _What about when Ron was crushing on--let's see--Tara--Zita--Yori--et cetera!_

_You mean you care after all!_ taunted the Mission girl.

_Well--_sputtered the Food Chain Girl_--Of course! After all--it's Ron!_

_There!_ said the Mission Girl. _Be fair! Affection isn't logical! It just--IS! You should remember that from when you had the Moodulator Chip!_

"Kimmie has a boyfriend! Kimmie has a boyfriend!" The Tweebs hugged themseslves and made smooching noises. Then they hugged each other and made smooching noises. They accidently touched lips.

"Eww!"

"Ugh!"

"Gross!"

"Cooties!"

"Ulk!"

"Ptooey!"

And Kim shouted "You Tweebs!" as she ran after them with a rolled-up newspaper.

Mrs.Dr.P. watched the bleak look in Ron's eyes.

_Shut up! _shouted the Food Chain Girl._ Enough with the memories! I so get the point! I treated Ron like crap!_

_No,_said the Mission girl. _Not like crap--you just denied him the one place he wanted to be someday--to be in your heart--to be as treasured as a real boyfriend._

Kim's thoughts slowly became coherent.

Bonnie taunted her.

Kim had gamely tried to put the best face on a poor sitch.

And Monique lamely reassured. "Stand by your Ron."

She wished she had. The lessons of a life frivolously lived.

The fog of unconsciousness was lessening. Awareness was returning to Kim's mind.

"She was about a minute away from running into Ron-dog's arms, Dr. Drakken. I got to her just in time," said a voice.

She knew the voice. She hated it now. She wished she had never heard it--or laid eyes on the speaker. Her "boyfriend". Her Prom Date.

"Never saw Sidekick move so fast," chuckled another voice. "I could almost swear he would've climbed Mount Middleton in the dark. The look in his eyes. I think he would've taken **me** on."

Kim slowly came awake. She was bound by rope to a giant wooden model of a cactus. Ron was across the way, likewise bound, head hanging down. They were in a giant darkened room full of Bueno Nacho props.

Her heart was wrung. _Oh, Ron--what did they do to you?_

And the evil ones stood before her, gloating. Drakken--in a sequined leisure suit--so 1980's. Erik in a synthodrone suit--so the treasonous prick. And Shego--so the superior smirk.

**"Erik Drake!"** Kim glared venomously at him. **"You sonuva b--!"**

Erik laughed. "Sticks and stones, Kimmie! Your words'll never hurt me!"

Shego covered her ears and feigned a shocked facial expression. "Oh, Princess--what language! Daddy would so Black Hole you, Kimmie-Cub!"

"Shut up, wench! I'm not your Kimmie--or your Princess--or your Pumpkin!"

Shego shrugged. "Oh, well...I had always hoped you might have picked up on my unrequited feelings--I coulda' been **your** wench!" She put her arm through Erik's arm and batted her eyes at him. "Hey 901, if Dr. D. doesn't mind, I can upgrade your programming--how to pleasure me. It would have been wasted effort on the little teenage Cheerleader here."

"Business before pleasure, Shego--pardon my pun. And part of that business is tying up loose ends." Drakken was smug. "Synthodrone 901!"

Erik snapped to attention. "Sir?"

"Show me what you took from Miss Kimberly Ann."

Erik held up the Kimmunicator and the grapple gun.

"At last!" shrilled Shego. "We got the hair dryer from her!" Erik offered it to her, and she snatched. "Look, Princess! This is what I'm gonna do to Nerdlinger when I catch up with him!" She ignited her hand and the grapple gun flared and melted.

Kim flinched. Her favorite weapon--gone.

Erik held up the Kimmunicator. "This whole night started to go south when Ron-Dog ran like a fool into the Prom and yelled about 'Evil Diablos!' " He smirked. "I'm taking that as a personal insult. Then this stupid box went off--and I tried to divert your attention--but you had to go and call Daddy!" He crushed it in his grip. "There! No more annoying calls--not that you're going to be able to answer it!"

Kim grimaced. Her two most dependable devices--obliterated. It was symbolic.

Drakken held out a hand. "Hand me her backpack."

And Erik did as he was ordered.

Drakken rifled through the contents. "Hmm--assorted homework--" He held up the electronic scrambler dart gun. "What's this? Another device?"

"Like she's gonna be able to use it," drawled Shego.

Drakken held up the history homework. "A pity, Kimberly Ann, you spent so much time completing your classwork. You will never attend class again. As your instructor in the lesson of life, I have given you your final test. And you have failed miserably. There will be no make-up exam." He stuffed the gun and papers in the backpack and tossed them to the ground at the foot of the cactus she was tied to.

"I must decide your fate, Miss Possible. Do I let you rot in this room? Trial by combat against a Diablo--or two?"

Kim was incensed. "You want to know what to do with me, Drakken? Put me up against **him**_--_!" She inclined her head toward Erik. "--Or** her**--!" She glanced toward Shego. "Mano a mano! Without my power suit! One at a time or both at once!"

Erik drew near. "You and I kissed while you were unconscious, Kim. In fact, I did a few things with you. And you must have liked it, because you didn't complain once." He grinned cruelly.

Kim felt sick. She practically screamed. "You** freak**! I **hate **you! If you were human, I think I could so even push you off a cliff. I don't know what I saw in you. And to think--I believed your lies about Ron and Amelia Mirador!"

Erik frowned. "You saw in me what you wanted to see, Kimmie. Exactly what you wanted in a boyfriend. A hottie. Someone smooth and suave--who would never embarrass you. Someone with the Food Chain Stamp of Approval. You believed everything I ever told you. You swallowed it like candy--because it was what you wanted to hear."

Kim aimed a vicious kick at Erik's head. He dodged, grabbed her ankles, and pinned them against the cactus with one hand. With the other hand, he reached up and unfastened her collar.

"You perv!" she spat. "Keep your hands off me!"

"As if you hold any more interest for me! I could've taken you whenever I wanted." He grabbed something from around Kim's neck and jerked it off.

"My locket!" she wailed.

"Your locket, your locket!" Erik mocked. He turned--and became inattentive.

Kim nailed the back of his head with the toe of her foot.

Snarling, he turned and slammed her leg into the cactus.

Kim winced.

"Try that again, and I'll break your leg!" spat Erik. He smiled mockingly again. "Y'know, Kimmie, I've been reading books on religion, morality, and philosophy. Not bad for an artificial mind, eh?" He tapped his forhead. "My head is in the game--like you tell Ron. But it's like this. I have a positronic computer for a mind--with electronic synapses. I do what I do because I'm programmed. Programmed for deception. That's what I'm about. My creator--the good Doctor--"

And Drakken unconsciously puffed his chest out. Shego rolled her eyes.

Erik continued. "--The good Doctor--is about building death rays and world conquest--which he is about to succeed at. It's what he's about. Shego, here--"

Shego smirked, pretended to regard her fingernails, and nudged Drakken. He rolled his eyes.

"--Shego is about super-villainy, cutting edge fashion, good grooming, and getting laid as often as she can."

"KId's got my number," drawled Shego to Drakken.

"But now what are you about, Kimmie?" challenged Erik. "Is it missions and saving the world? That's what you'd like to think. 'Anything is possible for a Possible', Daddy tells him Kimmie-Cub." He folded his arms. "**I** think you're about popularity--the Food Chain. It's why you go to Club Banana instead of Smarty Mart. It's why you try so hard--at your grades, at Student Council, at the Yearbook Committee, at Cheer Squad. You tell yourself you want to achieve so you can live up to your potential. I think it's because it makes you look good. It puts you above the average kid--like your partner." He pointed toward Ron, hanging limply tied to the other cactus. "It's the reason you date the hunk--the hottie. **It's the reason you chose me over Ron! It's the reason you swallowed all that b.s. I fed you about him and Amelia Mirador!**"

Kim's face took a stricken look--as though she had received a hopeless medical diagnosis. "No! It's not true!"

Erik folded his arms and looked smug. "LIke I said, Kimmie--I played the part of your boyfriend to lure you. Because I'm programmed to. Why did you play the part of Ron's friend? Because you wanted to."

Shego whispered to Drakken. "Dr. D.--did you program him for behavior like that?"

Drakken shook his head. "Of course not! Why would I make a synthodrone sound smarter than me! Did you teach him that?"

Shego shook her head. "Don't look at me! Deep thinking bores me to tears!"

Drakken stuck out his hand. "901. Let me see this locket," he ordered. He took it from Erik and opened it. "Hmm. A man and woman, and a couple kids--wait! This is your father, when he was your age! I remember how he looked. So, this is his brother, and these must be your grandparents. Why, yes, this is Em Possible--still living, if I recall. My condolences, my dear, on the untimely passing of your grandfather," he taunted.

"He died before I was born," muttered Kim. "That's from my Nana! I swear to God, if I don't get that back--!"

"--You'll what, Princess? You look pretty hung up to me," taunted Shego.

"I think I'll make a Mother's Day gift of this--to my dear mother," said Drakken, "after I've replaced these portraits. Synthodrone 901!"

:"Sir?" answered Erik.

"Take care of it. Remove those pictures. Carve them out with a knife if you have to. Miss Shego will provide you with suitably-sized pictures of my high school portrait and a picture of Mother and me when I was in nursery school."

"Erik," Kim whispered. "Please. It's from my Nana. If I meant anything to you--"

"You don't--Kimmie!" Erik frowned and glared at her.

Kim could feel the tears running down her cheek.

"Aw, Erik," mocked Shego, "That was mean! You're making Kimmie cry!"

Kim hardened her chin and glared.

"I should tell you," added Drakken, "Through a dummy corporation, I have deposited a sizable amount into your father's bank account: several hundred million dollars, if I recall. As payment for his selling the Haephastus Project to the highest bidder--me.."

"No one's gonna believe it!" argued Kim.

"Perhaps. We'll leave that to the Federal Treasury agents and their computer forensic examiners. They will also find that the Buffoon's parents--who just happen to be an actuary and a bank teller--conspired with their son to embezzle a sizable amount of money--a hundred thousand dollars--during his tenure as assistant manager of the local Bueno Nacho."

"No one's gonna believe that either!" Kim sounded less and less confidant.

"Oh, Shego," called Drakken.

"Dr. D.?" answered Shego.

"You'll do that little errand for me, won't you? Planting incriminating evidence--falsified financial records, that sort of thing--on the computers of the Bueno Nacho Corporation and the First National Bank of Middleton? You have such a knack for that. Like the time you managed to get the Buffoon's mother transferred to--what was it--Norway?"

"A pleasure, Dr. D."

"And so the humiliation of the Possible family is complete! Her father who taunted me in college has had his pet project stripped from his brain. He will lose his reputation--and his freedom--as a result of his illegal and unethical activities. His entire family will probably end up destitute. And the same fate awaits the Buffoon and his family"

In desperation, Kim shouted a last defiance at Drakken. "Drakken! I'm not the only one! They'll stop you!"

Drakken brightened. "And I'm glad you mentioned that, my dear! I'm going to clear the board! Both Team Possible and Family Possible! Shego!"

"Yeah, Dr. D.?" Shego yawned.

"Team Possible's young computer technician--"

Shego brightened. "Ya mean Nerdlinger?"

"Yes--if his house and family survive the destruction of Middleton, he's all yours."

Shego pumped her fist. "Bitchin'!"

Drakken ticked off on his fingers. "And now, there's the matter of the other family members--901!"

Erik came to attention. "Sir?"

"When the fire falls from the skies tonight, I want you to direct the Diablos to pay special attention to a couple locales. First, the ranching town of Thornbush Creek, Montana--home of James Timothy's brother--he has a daughter who could pass for Kimberly Ann. Second, the retirement community of Elderton, Florida, home of Em Possible--the lady in the picture." Drakken held up KIm's locket. "There are other cousins, but these two are of most concern."

"Yes, sir," said Erik.

Kim was horrified. "Drakken! Wade and Joss! They're just kids. This is murder!"

Drakken crowed. "Murder, you say? When you conquer the world, you've got to break a few eggs! Murder's already on the menu! And you and the Buffoon are kids--and look at the damage you've done me!"

And Kim was indignant. **"Drakken! You sack of crap!"** In her rage, she spit at him. She inhaled and blew a wad of mucus that almost reached him. It spattered at his feet.

He laughed. "Almost, my dear girl. Almost. Just like your efforts to defeat my plan. They fell short. Save some of that spirit for tomorrow. And now, I have a Diablo armada to activate. By morning I shall be master of the planet. And any nation that refuses to surrender will find its major cities reduced to rubble. Perhaps I'll make an example of Middleton. Hah! Come to think of it, that would nicely solve the dilemma of James Timothy Possible's disgrace. After all, if the Tri-City area is a smoking ruin, Dr. Possible and his family will be dead--they will avoid the pain of his freedom taken and his reputation tarnished. And there will be no law enforcement officials to carry out the arrest and investigation." He turned on his heel. "Shego! 901! Follow me! We've a busy night ahead of us." He turned back. "I bid you a good night, Miss Kimberly Ann. You're no longer All That. I leave you to reflect on the futility of your life and imminence of your demise. Remember, my dear. We have an engagement in the morning! Trial by combat. Sweet dreams!"

Drakken's diabolically devious laughter and Shego's throaty chuckles echoed as they and "Erik" strode from the chamber.

Kim felt alone--**was** alone. All alone. She cried out. "Ron! **Ron!**"

No answer. Ron remained unresponsive--if even alive.

This was her fault. All of it.

Something Ron's rabbi had said--Rabbi Katz--when Kim had gone to synagogue with Ron. _"The Lord is very near to those who are broken-hearted. A broken and contrite heart, oh Lord, Thou wilt not despise."_ But Kim was an agnostic--like her father.

What could it hurt? "God--what do I do?" she whispered to herself. No voice answered, either in her ear or in her mind.

It was too late. From even God, there was no help.

By tomorrow the face of the globe would be changed. Thousands--perhaps millions--would be killed. It would be a high price for Kim's fear of Bonnie's taunts and the Food Chain. A high price for the world to pay.

A parade of faces scrolled through her mind. All those her missions had helped. It would all be undone. Those of Middleton who thought they had been spared the heinous fate with her first deactivation of the Diablos. The true obliteration was coming.

It was true what people said. A person's life did flash before their eyes before they died. Kim recalled every face in razor sharp detail. Officer Thomas Hobble and rest of the Middleton Police Department, who looked on her and Ron as two of their own. Alex Handy, Middleton's own traffic copter pilot. Her mother's co-workers, like the other neurosurgeon of the practice, Dr. Gooberman, who had tried to fix her up with his son. Her father's former college roommates at the Middleton Observatory, Dr. Ramesh and Dr. Chen. Middleton High's most prominent teacher, Steve Barkin.

The kids at the Prom. Her dear friend Monique, who had tried to convince her to not to take the fateful Kimmunicator call. The Cheer Squad--Tara and the rest. Even her rival, Bonnie. The kids who were not at the Prom--like Justine Flanner--and Malcolm Nevius. Even Ned Flounder, the nitpicking assistant manager at Bueno Nacho.

Her family. To have the chance to hear the words that tweaked her. _"Kimmie-Cub." "Kimmie's got a boyfriend."_

And most of all, the dear friend who hung like a piece of meat with her--who she thought guilty of breaking her heart. Who probably had preceded her in death. Who she realized, far, far too late, was the boy she really cared for--perhaps even loved.

All of them ignorant of the impending doom. As much in the dark figuratively as she was literally, here in the Bueno Nacho building.

Kim Possible--the girl who could do anything--had failed them all.

"Mommy--Daddy--" Kim whispered--like a little girl who had done wrong or broken something and who hoped her mother and father could make it all better. It was a sign of how far she had deteriorated emotionally. She hung her head. Her red hair hung down and obscured her view. A sob escaped her lips. She had wept with Tara--with her mother--but this was different. True despair. All alone. In a moment she was wailing and sobbing hysterically, for the first--and probably the last--time in her life.

**"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"**

She wasn't exactly intending to address God directly--she was just apologizing to all those who had such high expectations of her--for disappointing them so badly. But in the dark storage chamber, no ears heard her wails but her own.

_**to be continued**_


	11. Chapter 11: why don't you just tell her?

Oh, my readers. I've read the mail--all the reviews--all the story alerts--all the story fav's. Even all the PM's. Am I ever gonna finish this fic?

Heavens to Betsy, yes. But I keep hitting snags on the pivotal chpt--The Turning Of The Tide.

I was watching So The Drama back in spring, around Memorial Day--and this story came into thought. And the thing sort of came together this morning, four months later. I know it's not what y'all were expecting--but I crave your patience.

Is this a songfic? (Shrug.) If it is, it's my first.

I envy and admire my folk Love Robin, Captainkodak, Mr. Wizard, et al, who can crank 'em out--but this is a twice-told tale of the Glacially Slow Writer. Let my stories speak for me--the love I bear for the art of writing and the characters I portray.

The characters-- by McCortle, Schooley, Loter, Disney. The story--taken from Kim Possible--So The Drama.

Yori's non-canon last name--Kamsumi--is by CaptainKodak 1 and is used with permission. Tara's non-canon last name--Sweetwater--in mine.

The song is entitled Why Don't You Kiss Her and is written by Jason Blume. Sung by Jesse McCartney.

Campy has a story--Latin Lovers with a chpt entitled Amor vincit omnia ...--Love conquers all.

May Love conquer all. May we turn each to our family, friends, and lovers and say what we need to say--that we blew it--that we care--whatever is called for. May we be gathered into the tender embrace--both human and Divine. As the hymn says--Safe In The Everlasting Arms. Vaya con Dios.

_**SAY SOMETHING, RON**_

_**chpt 11**_

_**Why don't you just tell her?**_

Kim was tied up to the fake saguaro cactus as securely as a hunting boot laced up. Ron was likewise lashed securely to a giant burrito.

While Kim howled in anguish at the deception of her fake boyfriend, the assumed death of her partner, and the pending deaths of her family, friends, and unsuspecting innocents all over the world, Ron's lamentations were of a more private kind.

He did not hear the wailing of the girl he loved--except perhaps deep within his own unconscious--and he might have mistaken it or his own heart's cry--for it is often a sad irony in this world that lovers are aware of each others' pain--but cannot comfort each other for their own inner hurt. And they are unable to reveal that inner hurt to each other out of a sense of shame

_We're the best of friends--_

In his mind's world, Ron was in the hallway of Middleton High School, walking toward his mission partner and best friend--his mind was made up--he would say something--his hand was up to catch her attention--his lips were open, ready to pour forth his declarations

_--And we share our secrets._

And then Kim closed her locker door--and Erik was on the other side--and they smiled at each other.

_She knows everything--_

In his mind's world, Ron sat on the teeter-totter at the school playground. In his mind's eye, he saw Erik pushing Kim on a swing.

_--That is on my mind._

In his mind's world, Ron sat in the Bueno Nacho booth across from Kim and Erik.

_Why don't you kiss her?_

In his mind's eye, he saw them feed each other nacho chips. Kim had a shy smile on her face and glanced bashfully at Erik.

_Why don't you tell her?_

It was exquisite agony. Ron leaned his elbows on the table and heaved a sigh like his heart would crack in half. She had never looked this way for anyone else--not Walter Nelson--not Bobby Johnson--

_Why don't you let her see --_

--Not even Josh Mankey.

_--The feelings that you hide?_

He never saw that look in in Zita Flores's eyes for him. He tried to remember if that look was in Tara Sweetwater's eyes--or in Yori Kansumi's eyes. He tried to remember what he might have done or said to cause the look.

_She'll never know--_

In his mind's world, he was putting along on his beat-up old scooter. And Erik flashed by on his Nihonda RPM--a wicked badical machine--which Ron would've noticed any other time--had not his mind's eye caught a glipmpse of Kim seated behind Erik--hugging him 'round the waist--leaning her head against him--her face a portrait of living bliss.

Kim turned briefly and finger-waved. A cute little finger-wave--the same kind she had given him when she was Moodulated--the same kind that had freaked him out at that time.

His mind's world rolled to a halt--just like the scooter. A little girl riding a tricycle stared at him.

_--If you never show--_

Kim receded into the distance, her red ponytail flipping from under another boy's bike helmet.

_--The way you feel inside._

His mind's eye stared longingly after her--and filled with stinging tears. His mind's self bowed its head to the scooter handlebars--and wept.

_**to be continued**_


End file.
